


Obfuscation

by Nalyra



Series: A blackish red hue [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Honeymoon, M/M, Murder Husbands, Original Character Death(s), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:50:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of the gun-shot wedding, it's real Murder Husbands now, true to the meaning.<br/>And of course there's smut :)</p><p>>> If you haven't, start with Baptism (pt 1 of this series), I do think it's necessary for character development.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This turned into another monster, I apologize for the delay, I wanted to post this last week but got involved with the ad and that was that.^^
> 
> (Yeah, I put in some honeymooning, they deserved it?!)
> 
> !!!!!!!
> 
> ALSO:
> 
> The incredible Hanniwill made some images to this chapter! Take a look [HERE](https://allionne.tumblr.com/post/161232762508/hanniwill-i-made-drawings-for-allionne-fiction)
> 
> I ... gave them leniency with the way they wanted to portray it and it is sooo beautiful!! So, so, beautiful  
> => As some of you may know I am prepping this series into a print book (after Radiance is done) - I will adapt the story to fit the art then :P

The early morning finds Will and Hannibal huddled close in the back of a newspaper delivery van, set for Henderson, only a short trip away. Will feels dreamlike, the night a tumble of impressions, Hannibals heart beating steadily under his head, the mark on his wrist an inferno of pain, grounding him. 

Hannibal rouses him with a kiss to his hair when they cross some tracks and they hurriedly jump out and make their way carefully towards the chemical plant, train wagons with chemicals lining up for departure. They hastily check the labels, climbing on top of one just rolling out, headed for Barstow, California.  
Will drops to his back on top of the train, the slight rail hiding him from sight, watching the black of the night fade slowly to the orange glow of what promises to become a very hot day. His wrist throbs and he grins, looking over at Hannibal who watches him intently, lying on his stomach on the other side, reaching out to clasp his right hand. Hannibal adjusts his grip until he can take Wills pulse, Will silently arching his brow.

„The branding will likely result in a fever. We have to take care not to let it get infected. I would suggest taking some antibiotics as soon as we are able. However, since there is nothing we can do about it now, I would suggest we sleep. We have to stay low on this roof, at least for another two hours, the train will likely pass through Las Vegas again, so this is probably the most sensible course of action.“

Will smiles tenderly, sees the echo on Hannibals lips, a weird counterpart to the fierceness he can see in his eyes. He breathes out deliberately, trying to relax on the rattling train, harsh and cold under his back, the wind ruffling his curls. He shakes his head minutely, vaguely amused at himself.

„So, what’s the status of our finances?“

„Zero. As you are well aware, we traded your last dollars for some water and sandwiches at that gas station.“

Hannibal holds the little bag up to demonstrate. Will huffs a laugh.

„… and -your- wallet?“

„Most of our cash has been traded for our identification. And I am loathe to admit, but I may have forgotten to take my wallet with me when we left the car.“

Will gapes at him and then laughs, mirth shaking his body, the words gasped through it.

„Oh, god help me, we -are- fucked. Wanted fugitives, no cash and Hannibal Lecter forgets something.“

Hannibal levels him with a sour look, but his lips twitch. His voice is soft, tenderly correcting, tongue wrapping delicately around the unfamiliar combination.

„Hannibal Graham-Lecter.“

Will is instantly sober again, swallowing tightly, his lashes suspiciously wet, whispering with a note of wonder.

„… and William Graham-Lecter…“

He swallows again, some of the mirth returning.

„Jack will be so utterly pissed…“

Hannibal smiles sharply at that, teeth flashing in the rising morning light. He puts his head on his arm, looking at Will contentedly, though his words are grave.

„You are aware, beloved, that the first time we will be able to use our new names will be if or when they arrest us?“

Will sighs, but smiles wryly.

„I am aware… but at least we’d be entitled to conjugal visits now…“

Hannibal raises his eyebrow, grinning slyly.

„Oh yes, we -could- try to induce a heart attack for Frederic, who would be no doubt eavesdropping on our sexual endeavors during our allowed time.“

Will grins at that, but it fades quickly, replaced by grim curiosity, searching Hannibals eyes.

„Do you think they’d adhere to the law in that? Or would they try to keep us separate?“

Hannibal blinks slowly, his fingers softly stroking Wills.

„They would very soon learn what it means to keep us separate, love. I was an almost model patient during my last stay due to incentive, but, suffice it to say, they should try to keep us… happy if we ever find ourselves under their care.“

Will grins tightly, the train switching tracks jostling him and he grimaces.

„Well, if we pass undetected on this I might need a massage… my back already complains.“

Hannibal squeezes his fingers, entwining them properly, voice deceptively soft.

„If we pass undetected you will get more than a massage, beloved.“

Will swallows at the heat in Hannibals eyes, letting his own longing show.

„Ah yes, Mr. Graham-Lecter, I believe you promised me quite an experience… I have to say, my expectations have been raised spectacularly high these last few weeks…“

He grins, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, chewing softly on it, seeing Hannibals eyes darken more. Hannibal voice is husky when he closes his eyes and settles.

„Soon, my love.“

____________________

 

The next two hours are nerve-wracking, Will trying to sleep but the jostling and the situation keeping him awake. The train is very slow through Las Vegas, the intermittent stops gnawing on Wills nerves. It’s still early but every time Will hears a siren there’s a jolt of adrenaline. He puts his left wrist over the documents in his inner pockets, all thats left and all thats needed now, holding down against it, probably crinkling the documents and not caring at all. His right is linked with Hannibal, the position slightly uncomfortable but simply imperative.  
He finally falls asleep, exhausted, when the suburbs fall back behind them, and the desert rushes by, the train picking up speed, the rising morning sun already warm.

He comes to via a light slap to his cheek and tries to open his eyes, mind bleary, foggy, realizing he is shaking and jerks awake, his head splitting with pain.  
Hannibal pulls his hand from his right and puts his left under his head, tipping a water bottle against his mouth, and Will drinks greedily, moaning lightly. A shadow crosses his vision and a hot hand checks his forehead, Will trapping at Hannibal to keep him there greedily, the wind hot and not particularly cooling.

„Will, try to sit up. We overheated. The temperature rose faster than I anticipated. We need to cool off a bit.“

Will tries to make his tongue work, the words thick in his mouth.

„They’ll see….“

„There is no-one here to see. Besides, I would rather kill any witnesses than let harm come to you now. Sit up.“

Will chuckles and groans, and forces his aching joints into submission. He pants into the hot desert wind, chafing with the speed of the train. His suit is soaked, clinging to his skin. Hannibal settles in front of him, looking also quite wrecked, mimicking his posture, their legs interlinked and offers him the water bottle again. Will drains it in one long swallow. He looks at Hannibal, his hair wild around his head, a silver halo against the desert. 

„How much longer do you think we’ll have to stay on here?“

Hannibal tilts his head, looking out at the scenery for a moment. 

„This train should reach its destination in approximately 2 hours, I believe. We need to get off before it reaches the station.“

Will hums, throat dry.

„We should try to get our strength back up… pass me the sandwiches?“

Hannibal sighs.

„I think we should skip the tuna sandwiches, though the cheese sandwiches should still be fine… I did put them in an extra foil bag.“

Will takes one without comment, the stag head on his wrist deep red and weeping.


	2. Chapter 2

They jump off in the suburbs of Barstow and try to make themselves a bit more representable. There are tufts of hair that won’t stay down and Will has to smile through his headache. They still brush off dirt off their clothes when an old man stalks at them, gun raised, sprouting something about properties and government. It’s a testament to exactly how exhausted Hannibal is as well when he just snaps the mans neck without further ado and carries him to the little worn down looking house, arm flung over his shoulders, deliberately not checking the neighbors. Will picks up the gun, checks the safety and follows, keeping an eye out but either no-one is there or no-one cares enough.

He steps into the little living room, draws the blinds, hearing the sound from the cellar, Hannibal dropping the man there, climbing back up immediately. So, no organ harvesting today… Will is secretly relieved, not very hungry after all.  
Will stands in the little kitchen, gazing out at the desert, and just breathes for a moment. He hears Hannibal come up, close the door and stand against it, equally quiet. Will turns and goes over, the need to be close eclipsing headache, shower, food or water. He steps into the welcoming embrace and pushes his head under Hannibals jaw, breathing slowly, the sharp smell of salt and sand and fury and exultation and just Hannibal enveloping him.

Will steps back slowly, raising his head for a soft kiss before he clears his throat.

„I need to find some aspirin or tylenol. And we need water. And then we’ll go and find a bed.“

Hannibal trails a finger along his temple and nods, turning and searching already for the medicine, while Will rummages around the kitchen, finding only alcohol and root beer. He checks the tap water and turns back disgusted, taking the four bottles of warm root beer and moves down the hallway, stopping at the mans bedroom, his voice weary but firm. 

„Ok… so maybe no bed after all…“

Hannibal comes up behind him, carrying several small jars, and simply stares at the little room, the term mess not even close. Will looks sideways, thoroughly annoyed, and starts, giving a low hum of excitement when he sees the gigantic caravan at the back of the house, its silver exterior futuristic in appearance and apparently quite new. Hannibal mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‚there better be keys‘ which makes Will snort against his better judgement, his headache flaring instantly. Hannibal checks his eyes with one thumb and then rummages through the jars, giving him three pills from two jars, which Will swallows without checking, dry, utterly relieved that he can do -anything- about it. Hannibal shakes out two more, taking them himself, so Will surmises they found some antibiotics after all.

Hannibal puts the little jars down on a sideboard and goes for the keys, the dead man obviously a slob in life but very proud of his new caravan, the keys prominently displayed by a small glass locker in form of a… caravan. Of course. Hannibal breaks the glass, takes the keys and goes out back first, checking the vicinity. Will purses his lips and takes two knifes from the block, just in case, scooping the little jars in his arms, fingers clenched on the bottles and knifes and follows. Hannibal is opening the caravans door when he steps up, and carefully peeks in, and, obviously relieved, turns to Will. It’s like a punch in the gut to see his expression light up at the sight Will probably makes, the little smirk a beautiful thing to see.

He holds the door for Will, still softly smirking, and Will cannot help to smirk back when he steps passed him, entering the hot interior but instantly impressed with the layout and modern equipment, the caravan obviously fitted for a couple or one single person, the whole rear dominated by a big bed, the second bed option transformed into a tv area.

Will chuckles and raises his eyebrows at Hannibal, grinning ferociously.

„Well, maybe we will be able to go on that honeymoon after all….“

Hannibal comes close and pushes his fingers softly into the throbbing vein in Wills temple, softly massaging, pressing a kiss to his hairline.

„First, let us sleep, beloved. On the day blanket if that is alright with you.“

Of fucking course. God forbid they soil the bed… Will snorts and drags himself over, falling face first onto it, Hannibal only pretending to do better.

_____________________

 

It’s dark again when Will is woken by his rumbling stomach, Hannibal stirred awake by the sound as well, drawing him in, nestling close. Will settles back into a light doze until the rumbling comes again and makes him snicker, utterly delighted to find the headache gone. He pushes his nose through Hannibals hairline next to his ear, inhaling deeply and chuckling quietly.

„Oh gosh, we stink…“

Hannibal hums at him but refuses to let go, making Will wrestle him on his back, kneeling over him, pushing Hannibals head back down though there is little resistance. Will licks his lips.

„I thought you don’t wanna soil this bed??“

Hannibal grins at him, teeth flashing.

„For what I have in mind we would not need a bed…“

Will shakes his head at him, grinning.

„Nope, no will do. No more floors for me. And you can just wipe that smile off, Hannibal, NO.“

He tries to clamber off at this, Hannibal up like a flash, gripping his wrists, shaking his head slowly, shushing Will, his expression lewd.

„No floor, beloved. We will christen the kitchen.“

Will gapes at him and laughs, though he and Hannibal know only too well that there are parts of him that like that little plan just fine, thank you very much.  
He clears his throat, raising his eyebrows, feeling light headed already, putting up token protest.

„Shouldn’t we get cleaned up and find something to eat?“

Hannibal pushes his wrists behind his back, holds them there a moment as an indication for Will to keep them there, his breath hot on his throat.

„I wish to take you in our wedding suits, in the way we wore them, at least once…“

A shudder runs through Will and he has to close his eyes, already straining in his pants. He feels Hannibal pull open his tie, soiled like the rest of his suit, dust and grease having taken their toll on them due to their escape. The tie is slowly wrapped around his hands, loosely and Will swallows tightly at the memory of their trip to Honolulu. He opens his eyes, black having already eclipsed the blue, only to see Hannibal grin dirtily at him, pulling his own tie out. It descends on Wills head, though not to his eyes, the satin catching at his open mouth, and dropping further to his neck. Hannibal pulls the tie close slowly in a complicated knot, letting the fabric catch on every movement of Wills adams apple, not constricting yet, though the intention is clear. Will releases a shuddering breath, Hannibal drawing back to look at him, the end of the tie loosely in his hand. Hannibal groans, openly appreciative.

„The sight you make, my precious boy… Someday you will have to let me draw you…“

Will groans, tries to imagine how he must look, flushed, pants already dented, kneeling in a dirty suit on a caravan bed, restrained and waiting to be fucked. Hannibal draws near, whispering in his ear, once more knowing his thoughts.

„Exactly.“

He puts his left hand behind Wills head, and his right on his hip and slowly shuffles backwards with him, off the bed and backwards towards the kitchenette, a long sideboard completed by a little sink to the left, the stove on the other side. Hannibal puts him right against the sink, and then draws his fingers slowly across his torso, opening the jacket, but leaving the shirt buttoned. Hannibal takes the documents out slowly, gently straightening out their identification and their wedding certificate, carefully placing them on the table behind him, gently doing the same to the photo, fingers tracing over it in reverence before he turns back to Will. He breathes at the base of Wills throat, licking at a small droplet of sweat there, following it down, nosing down the shirt and to Wills pants. Will can feel them being opened slowly, the hands pushing them down leaving blazing trails on his skin, his eyes following the silver crown down. Hannibal removes Wills shoes gently, putting them aside carefully, pants and boxers following. Hannibal takes the clothing and gets up, puts it onto the little couch carefully before turning back.  
His eyes search Wills, fathomless dark.

„May I fulfill the ties destiny?“

Will licks his lips, his throat dry. Of course Hannibal would remember. His voice is rough.

„Nothing too … permanent right now? We -are- being hunted…“

Hannibal smiles deceptively soft, the sharp teeth flashing, the beast roaring to life behind his eyes. 

„As you wish.“

He comes closer to Will and picks up his hand, inspecting the cut he made there only a while ago in their old life. Will almost misses the snick of Hannibals folding knife before Hannibal makes the same cut in his own hand, the blood welling up, it’s coppery smell making Wills mouth water, vision a red tunnel closing ever in. Hannibal smiles again, elated and vicious, drawing his palm over Wills face slowly, down his throat, deliberately tracing the tie to paint it and over his clothed chest, Will holding his breath with the intensity of it, moaning when that fist closes over his dick. Hannibal licks at the blood around Wills lips for a moment, and then drops to his knees, fist slowly pumping Will, slick with precome and blood. Will moans, but shakes his head, his whisper desperate.

„Don’t. I’ll come…“

Hannibal looks at him for a moment, smirking.

„Yes. You will.“

With that he lowers his head and pushes his fist all the way to Wills base, holding tight, his mouth applying suction immediately, sometimes drawing back to tongue at the slit but never letting go, Will a moaning broken mess within minutes. Will can feel his orgsam coil, his instinctual movements ever increasing when Hannibal deep throats him without warning, the fist releasing, the only thing remaining being heat, pressure and the tight swallowing of Hannibals throat, Will coming with a yell, helplessly trying not to trust too deeply, hands pulling on the tie, pressed against the sink. 

He slumps down over Hannibal, gasping, legs buckling. Hannibal comes up and kisses him harshly, sharing the taste, making Will moan deeply. Hannibal draws back and puts both hands on Wills face, thumbs tracing his lower lip, dipping into Wills open mouth. Hannibal snarls and pushes his tongue in with his fingers, tongue fucking in deep, Will mewls brokenly with the feeling.

Hannibal draws back again, hands falling down only to turn to the cupboard, and takes down some oil, grinning.

„I wonder how you will taste with this…“

Will swallows, just coming down, or should that be back up.

„Fuck….“

Hannibal snarls at him.

„Yes.“

He roughly turns him and Will can feel the oil being poured over his clothed back, a little torrent of fluid, precisely administered to run down his ass. He swallows when he feels Hannibal drop to his knees again, knows what is to follow and trying to brace himself for it puts his upper body down against the sinks edge.  
Hannibal traces along his crack slowly, softly massaging the oil in, the feeling overwhelmingly erotic in Wills post-orgasmic haze, only skipping over his hole, the touch of his tongue anticipated and yet making Will jerk hard. Hannibal moans against him and Will cannot help but echo it, cock jerking helplessly. Hannibal starts to tongue fuck him slowly, Wills body opening up without much restraint, already wanting this so much. Hannibal gets him thoroughly wet and slick, slowly licking up to Wills back after a while, fingers kneading now, getting to his feet. Will feels him open his pants, his cock hot on his lower back when he steps close. Hannibal pushes close with his upper body, breath hot on Wills ear, softly turning his face towards him.

„Lean onto the sink, beloved, so I can make you come again.“

Will laughs breathlessly.

„Ahh, Hannibal, I am not -that- young anymore…“

Hannibal licks at a trail of his own blood in Wills sweaty face.

„Trust me.“

Will closes his eyes for a moment, wordlessly pushing himself up and bracing, his heart picking up speed when Hannibal takes the ties end and slowly drags it towards Wills back, the satin slightly catching with the pull. Will pants harshly, catching on.

„Oh my god…“

Hannibal smiles wolfishly in the edge of his vision, vicious teeth flashing.

„Yes.“

Will laughs sharply at that, ending in a yelp when Hannibal pushes in without further ado, hands on his hips, Wills body opening with the pressure, the glide unstoppable. Will groans deeply with Hannibal, licking along his teeth and lips, tasting Hannibals blood mixed with his own sweat on his lips. Hannibal puts one hand on Wills lower back, flush against his own body, while the other goes up and grabs the tie, the slight pull tightening the noose more, not yet painful but Will already light headed by it.

Hannibal starts rolling his hips into that spot in Will, doling out helpless pleasure. The tie pulls tight in increments, the pressure on Wills throat a meditative counterpoint to Hannibals fucking, the tie effectively separating the feelings of body and mind for Will. He can feel his face heat up, breathing difficult now, his cock filling out again when Hannibal starts powering into his prostrate with force, making Will gasp desperately, upper leg bones painful against the sink. Hannibal hissed proclamation is lost in his lust addled brain, Will letting himself fall into this moment completely. Hannibal rears up behind him and back, changing the angle, using the tie as the only connection except his cock, putting weight behind it, the tie pulling tight almost completely, forcing Wills body to comply with the pressure, riding him hard. The explosion starts behind his eyes, vision drawing in, his body offering up the iridescent pleasure as an afterthought, and Will hurls towards darkness, knowing it’s seductive pull, falling into it willingly, the pulsing inside of him possessing him completely.

_________________

 

„Do not speak, beloved.“

Will turns his head towards that presence torturously, his throat a hurting mess, yet wanting, so wanting. Hannibal bends down over him, sensing his need, kissing him deeply until he has returned to reality completely. Hannibal draws back and gazes at him quietly, propped up over him, once more on the floor. Will snorts and then snickers, no sound coming from his throat anyway. 

Hannibal eyes crinkle, their connection crackling with intensity and softly traces the blackish mark on his throat. He bends down and presses kisses to Wills eyes and Will breathes in slowly, passed the construction in his throat.   
He draws a hand down Hannibals lapels, realizing they still wear most of their suits, and grins, seeing the echoing emotion in Hannibals eyes. He rolls his shoulders, his aching joints cracking. Hannibal bends down and starts mouthing against his neck, the dark blue line stark against the yellowing bruises already there. Will sighs and puts his arms around Hannibals neck, tilting his head back to allow for better access, the slight pain intensifying the feeling. 

It is a constant theme with Hannibal, Wills bruised throat, something that Will surmises is equal parts possessive behavior showing him off to the world and instinctual need to skid that edge of killing him, so easy for Hannibal in that place, teeth so near. Of course it doesn’t exactly help that Will is very receptive to this treatment.  
Hannibal hums against him, starting to lick at his own blood still marking Wills face and clothes, tongue softly rasping across his skin, the moan in Wills throat inaudible, unwillingly being the voice of reason for once, senses still tingling. Will breathes in Hannibals ear, voice lower than a whisper.

„We should go and shower in the house and then get the hell out of here… there’s no telling if police will start checking even here.“

Hannibal mouthes at Wills mouth for a moment, capturing his lips, nipping softly before he lets go with a sigh, the gesture so deliberately put on Will has to chuckle.

„Very well, we will do as you wish. We should also try to find some unsuspicious clothes, I believe. And whatever else we can use of this… slob. But we will keep the suits.“

The latter is a statement and Will smiles broadly at Hannibal, wide and carefree, just enjoying and mirroring the emotion. Hannibal looks at him for a moment longer and then pulls him up by the hand in one swift motion, pulling him flush against his chest. Will pushes his forehead up against Hannibals, breathing for a moment.

Hannibal draws back slowly, pressing a quick kiss to Wills nose, snickering, making Will wrinkle it in response, hitting Hannibal on the back in retaliation, when he bends down to do his pants up. Will pulls on his pants perfunctory, movements felt in deep places, making him smile exultantly. They carefully check the vicinity before leaving the caravan, re-entering the house. Will stands in the door to the bedroom, sighing noiselessly and steps over the various spread items on the floor, opening the closet, trying not to breathe too deeply. It’s a wild mess in there as well, Will reluctant to touch any of it. In the back corner he finds a bag with some unworn jeans, labels still on, and a few plaid shirts, obviously too ugly even for the slob. Will grins and takes the bag out, clean underwear nowhere in sight and proceeds to the bathroom across the hall.

He can hear Hannibal rummage around in the kitchen, where else, and pushes the mess on the bathroom floor out of the way, stripping slowly, the water cold but so pleasant anyway. He takes his time, trying to really enter reality, the low sounds permeating the house strangely domestic, the ghost of something akin to homesickness tickling at the back of his brain, Will utterly aware he doesn’t miss the past though, but the future, the realization of peace and quiet for him and Hannibal an almost impossible feat to accomplish right now. He swallows down the pang of pain at the thought of their little house in Marseille, gone in fire and smirks wryly at the thought of Hannibals calculations to reverse time. If only it were that easy. He turns his head in the spray and tries to let the water wash away the past, the pain on his inner wrist grounding him in the now.

When Will enters the kitchen, clad in too big jeans and a plaid shirt open at the neck, Hannibal has already pulled together all cans and packages with food still valid for consumption, his facial expression not very happy at the result. He turns to Will and raises his eyebrows, Will only grinning, knowing the remaining clothes are even worse, secretly enjoying the hell out of it. Hannibal clicks his tongue and indicates the little pile with a nod.

„I believe we will be eating some pasta for a few days. And something called pop tarts? However, we will need to find some valuables to exchange for cash at the next pawnshop. Would you mind to go and look for money and any kind of jewelry? I doubt this … man had much besides the caravan, but we need to be creative.“

Will nods and takes a look through the various cupboards and closets, filled with… stuff, most of it rubbish. He finds some old wedding rings, a steel cartridge with 257$ and the caravans papers, and an old mobile, pre internet but apparently working and on an active contract. He rummages around until he finds the charger and returns to the kitchen with his little pile, putting the items besides the blueberry pop tarts, smirking at the thought of Hannibal actually eating one of those. Will goes to the fridge and takes the gun out of the freezer he stashed there in favor of something to drink, checking it, adding it and its 5 rounds to the pile. Hannibal turns to him, smirking softly when he steps close.

„Junk food and a gun to start our life with. It is a rather fitting combination if we are honest, is it not? Still, I would have wished to embellish our honeymoon a bit more, but then I would rather be married to you and on the run than living in luxury and not. I do hope you share this sentiment.“

Will steps up to Hannibal and kisses him, feeling utterly free.


	3. Chapter 3

They charge the caravan through the night, tank thankfully full, and stash their findings, trying to stay as quiet as possible though the neighbors keep to themselves. They wait until most of those neighbors have pulled out to work the next morning, eating dry bread with cheddar for now, Will snickering every time he sees Hannibals face, and pull out slowly mid morning, going south for now. They leave the house locked, blinds drawn, hopefully throwing off anybody coming to look for at least a while.  
Will puts the gun in the glove compartment, the obvious placement outweighed by reachability and drives them across country, keeping to the speed limits, the cops utterly uninterested in their vehicle, already dusty by the road, Hannibal staying in the back as not to attract interest.

They go downtown in the next bigger city, Will slicking his hair back and drawing on one of the greasy personalities he booked as a cop in order to obfuscate his appearance, selling the rings they found for a meager 50$ and getting them a small notebook, that is close to deliverance from the looks of it though still able to provide internet access, with most of their money. Hannibal breathes a sigh of relief at it, though Will shakes his head at him, knowing full well it’s more or less only the food that has Hannibal in pieces and the prospect of requesting money and thereby food being the most important things to Hannibal now. They find an open wireless lan in one of the suburbs, only staying long enough to send a short message to Chiyo, ordering cash and a replacement caravan for them in Phoenix, along with a request for information they might need.

They drive in short shifts, trying to retain as much strength as possible, Will enjoying the boring sight of the desert going by more than anticipated, his curls ruffled by the breeze of the open window, the classical music from the radio deeply relaxing.

When the small text comes on their old mobile, Hannibal smirks at Will via the mirror, eyes flashing. 

„I believe the times of ill fitting jeans will be over soon.“

Will grins, his voice still rough, throat hidden beneath a dish towel used as a scarf, dripping with amused sarcasm.

„Ahhh, I’m gonna miss them… I wonder if Chiyo will ever be annoyed by our little … requests?“

Hannibal hums, his voice grave.

„Chiyo knows that our requests keep her safe and aware of our position. She would not wish to be -not- aware. Therefore our requests are in her interest.“

Will purses his lips and tilts his head.

„Have you put another request in for new identification?“

The pause by Hannibal is grave and Will stills his hands, having played with some cards at the desk and looks up front. He can see Hannibals eyes in the mirror, hooded, staring at the road. It is some tense seconds later that he exhales and finally answers, Will smirking softly to himself, head lowered again and waiting patiently, empathy senses tingling but then again not really needed to get to the bottom of this.

„I have not. I… feel myself reluctant to do so. For the first time in long decades I have a legal family again and I find myself shying away from giving it up. Even if just in name…“

Will seizes the opportunity in Hannibals pause and asks the question that has been on the tip of his tongue for a while now.

„What of your Uncles family… will they approve? Don’t you consider them legal family??“

Hannibal is silent again for a few seconds and then clicks his tongue, voice soft and considerate. 

„I do. In fact, I would be surprised if the Lady Murasaki did not know already. My uncle and I have not spoken in long years. The last thing being them threatening to disown me for my… proclivities.“

Will raises his head, watching what he can see of Hannibals face carefully.

„They knew?“

Hannibal tilts his head a bit, eyes fixed on the road, his answer soft but curt.

„They were aware.“

Will licks along his teeth slowly but decides the opportunity is too good to pass up.

„You weren’t close to them?“

Hannibal flashes his eyes to Wills through the mirror, his voice darkly amused and yet haltingly vulnerable at once, making Will want to touch him badly. He refrains, listening very closely instead.

„That is not entirely accurate. They searched for me after my parents died, found me in an orphanage and raised me, or it would be more precise to say gave me shelter. My aunt taught me many things, most of which I was able to employ successfully in my later life. I met Chiyo there. I… did not hide my nature then. They helped me to realize I needed to obfuscate it and they did their best to teach me how. My uncle was not… pleased. I stayed with them in Paris through school, as I have told you about before.“

Will nods, remembering their own time in Paris, smiling softly. He decides to address the elephant in the room, Hannibal having already brought it up with him twice on his own before.

„Misha was already gone by the time they found you, wasn’t she? I… Chiyo always put fresh flowers on her grave, I just thought you might wanna know.“

Will can see Hannibal close his eyes briefly, no other car on the desert road here anyway, smiling painfully to himself, before he forces himself to answer, Will watching what he can see in the mirror like a hawk.

„Yes. I had taken her into me and had closed in on myself, removing myself from humanity, finally understanding that and to an extent why I was different, but yet unable to discern exactly how. The orphanage did not take my behavior kindly. I felt gratitude towards my uncle and deep understanding and affection from my aunt but I never felt as I did for her again. Until you.“

It’s Wills turn to swallow painfully, meeting Hannibals eyes in the mirror. He clears his throat, making sure Hannibal can see his soft smile and changes the subject slightly.

„How will -we- obfuscate our nature and more importantly our position if we wish to keep our christmas appointment? Especially with our true names?“

He can see Hannibals eyes crinkle at the corners, the expression smug.

„We will find out what exactly you are comfortable with and hunt. The kills will obfuscate our actual position and serve as a delay for the authorities. We will establish a pattern, make sure cause of death cannot properly be set into a timeframe.“

Hannibal flashes an amused grin at Will, continuing, gaze intense.

„It is just as well that I have the person that wrote the standard monograph on time of death by insect activity with me. I will adhere to your expertise in this. We will create our design.“

Will huffs a laugh, his mind racing. He licks his lips, his stomach tilting.

____________________

 

They enter a suburb in Phoenix, finding a spot in a back alley for their caravan close to a greyhound station, the many silver busses obscuring their own vehicle, the busy people there hiding them more effectively than any camping lot could have done. Will watches the street for a moment through the drawn blinds and then looks to Hannibal, packing their meager possessions into a small bag, his back towards Will, hair still damp from his shower. He comes up behind him, draws his hands up his hips to the small of his back, pressing his hips forward lightly, still catching himself wondering that he can actually do this now, freely.

„Don’t we have some time?“

Hannibal presses back minutely, smirking but continues his packing, carefully folding the suits away. Will reaches passed him and puts his right hand on Hannibals, effectively stilling him. He whispers into his ear.

„I’m sorry, love, but I cannot let you put this away until I have properly… appreciated you in it… Put it on for me?“

Will feels more than hears Hannibals breath stutter at the endearment, turning his head backwards to catch Wills mouth in a quick kiss.

„We have an appointment in 45 minutes, as you are well aware, Will.“

Will looks at him for a moment and then grabs his chin, pulling his head back even more and lets his own darkness shine, glowing between them, pupils going rapidly black, voice clipped and brooking now argument.

„Put your suit on and stand in front of the mirror, Hannibal.“

There is a two seconds hesitation where Will is not sure whether Hannibal will comply or turn around and kill him and then he snarls at him and Will answers and bites a kiss at his lips, pushing Hannibal by his hips roughly. Hannibal stops and strips perfunctory, and then slowly and deliberately puts his shirt on, buttoning it with care, eyes dark-hot-black on Wills in the mirror, suit jacket following and then finally the pants, Will stopping his hands with a smirk when he wants to do the zip. Will turns to the bed and pulls the dirty tie from the pile, softly tying Hannibals hands together in his front. He pushes him in front of the mirror, raising Hannibals arms until they are above his head and softly holds them for a moment, pressed against the wall. Hannibal spreads his legs silently, broadening his stance, front of his pants denting obscenely.  
Will leans agains this back, hand traveling to Hannibals stomach, pressing slowly down, voice rough, though not hiding the smile in it.

„I want you to watch yourself… Y’know, when you where gone after that night in the kitchen I came back … later and inspected your house… that mirror in your bedroom really was a bit kinky, wasn’t it? Did you jerk off fantasizing it’d be me even then?“

Hannibal doesn’t answer but Will can feel the effect his words have, and he grins. He breathes into Hannibals ear, hearing him groan deeply.

„Let me fulfill that fantasy for you now…“

Will drops to his knees behind Hannibal, feeling wildly out of control and yet more concentrated than ever before. He drags Hannibals pants down slowly, taking care not to hurt but also making sure the pants catch a bit.  
He nuzzles for a moment against the slightly fuzzy skin, inhaling deeply, his own arousal almost aching already. He pulls himself back slowly, remembering that they have to hurry after all and pulls Hannibals cheeks apart, flicking his tongue against Hannibal, feeling the whole body jerk with grim satisfaction. He starts licking softly, just there, just around the actual target, never quite where Hannibal wants it the most, spit everywhere, hearing Hannibal reduced to soft mewling sounds within minutes with vicious satisfaction. He shifts his grip so that he can hold him apart with one hand, the other slowly pushing Hannibals legs further apart, a breathless pant his reward when he puts his fist around Hannibals cock, already leaking, the shirt tails touching it on every movement. Will sighs a laugh that has Hannibal moan deeply and times the thrust of his tongue right there with the pull of his fist. And again, and again, the sounds Hannibal utters making Will shake himself. He quickens the pace, twisting his wrist on the upstroke now and he feels Hannibal tighten, suddenly utterly silent. Will grins and then pushes three fingers in with his tongue, pushing right against Hannibals prostrate, his fist squeezing and Hannibal shouts and comes, body forced by pleasured agony, Will growling behind him. Will comes up in a flash, pushing his own pants down and pushes in, all the spit just wet enough not to hurt, replacing his fingers, making Hannibal shout again, still spasming in aftershocks.  
Will rolls his hips through them, draping himself on Hannibals back, enjoying his shaky exhales. He pushes himself up and as deep as he can when Hannibal stills, minutely rutting in, feeling Hannibal squeeze deliberately around him and he comes, there, his arms around Hannibals chest, hands framing his heart.

Will reaches up slowly after a while, releasing Hannibals wrists, still intimately connected and reluctant to move. He checks Hannibals eyes in the mirror, and the look in them makes his body give a valiant effort to get hard again. Hannibal keeps his gaze, puts one hand to the mirror and presses the other to Wills over his heart.

„Mylimasis…“

Will swallows, no translation needed for the emotion so freely transmitted. He echoes softly.

„Beloved…“

Hannibal grins lewdly at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

„Now, let us start our hunt, mylimasis. If we hurry, we might even be on time, still.“

 

_________________________

 

They make the appointment with the shady dealer close to the main station with minutes to spare, the no questions asked approach an unspoken agreement between them. They receive a big envelope containing a dozen manila folders, a small backpack with cash and exchange the old caravan keys with some new ones and an address with the spot it’s parked in. And also a pair of credit cards with phony names though indeed no new identification.  
Will falls in step with Hannibal in the broad daylight afterwards, both looking more than a bit hobo, but not enough to stop any of the police cars that pass them by without a second glance. 

They enter an irish pub, soccer league playing and settle down in a corner, the table there only free despite the early evening because the TVs are not visible from there. Will orders Kilkenny for them both, knowing Hannibal prefers it to a stout and cheeseburgers with fries, ignoring the sour look he gets. He quietly opens the folders, going through the files of criminals with high level crimes, selected by the specifications they agreed on. The men they got the bios of seem all to be off the hook from justice by some system error or the other, their crimes turning Wills stomach. He forces himself to eat some of the fries, and analyzes the profiles slowly, Hannibal only watching him. Will tips one of the profiles with his forefinger, his voice disgusted and yet excited.

„Him first.“

Hannibal raises his eyebrows at him and takes the file, scans the profile. He looks back up at Will, Wills posture locked and angry, Hannibal knowing just perfectly not to touch him now. He nods once, his voice almost swallowed by the cries of the soccer fans around them.

„A good choice, beloved.“


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~~~~~~~~~  
> Trigger warning: worst crime?  
> Yeah, not quite mentioned but insinuated.  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~

They decide to rent some bikes again, shopping similar leather clothing as before, Will grinning softly, trying some on. The shop selling them has an … interesting side section, Will quirking his eyebrow at Hannibal, grinning, but passing it by nonetheless. He more feels than sees Hannibal stop at the entrance to the section, probably getting ideas, and Will swallows, his pants getting uncomfortable again. He chuckles at himself, his libido on a ridiculous high since Paris… no, Amsterdam, though there he was still a bit… careful. Will licks his lips and looks back at Hannibal, and sees him put something on the counter and has to turn away, blushing wildly. Will closes his eyes, cursing, suppressing his own curiosity. He’ll find out. He grins.

When he puts his clothing on the counter all of Hannibals things have been packed already and Hannibal looks at him passively, only the glittering in his eyes betraying him. Will looks at him for a moment and then decides that two can play this game, turning and getting something, fighting the blush all the way back to the counter, putting it down on it without comment. Hannibal hands over the cash without further ado, taking their bags and leaving without another word. Will steps out behind him, nightfall already upon them and breathes in, not quite looking where they’re going. Suddenly he is shoved against the wall, a hand on his throat, Hannibals breath hot in his left ear.

„Oh, beloved, our items will go -so- well together.“

He draws back and looks at Will, grinning wolfishly and turns and keeps on walking. Will swallows and kicks the wall once, trying to regain his composure, cursing breathlessly. The goddamn smug bastard. 

They buy their new bikes from some run down juveniles in the suburbs, the cash offered too much to think too much about it. They are a far cry from the bikes they had before and Will pulls a face remembering, but he has to agree that these are far more inconspicuous. 

They drive towards their goal slowly, the address only 30 minutes away their belongings in backpacks once more, and scout the area slowly, though not too slowly lest they draw suspicion.  
The targets house is almost completely dark, a low condo, blue light flickering across the living room the only sign that somebody might be home. Will spots the big bike in the garage and smiles grimly. Hannibal eyes are cold and glittering when their gazes lock. They pull up to a house for sale two blocks down and take the sign down as if they were the new owners, putting their bikes away properly, the breaking of the lock so fast it looks as if opened by a key. It’s late, the probability that neighbors would come to greet them fairly low and they prepare quietly, the kitchen knifes from their old caravan gleaming in the half dark. Will clicks his tongue.

„We really need to get ourselves some proper folding knifes again.“

Hannibal looks up from where he repacks their backpacks.

„That is true. However, I was very loathe to do this at that shop, it would have made our stay too… memorable.“

Will pulls an amused face.

„And it wasn’t so already?“

Hannibal pushes himself up, licking his lips.

„I believe implied blood play with our purchases would have left a more lasting impression, yes.“

Will raises his chin, eyes closing halfway, the blue cold.

„If only they had known what kind of blood play we would need them for….“

Hannibal traces a finger along his jaw.

„Indeed.“

________________________

 

They leave the little kidnapped house at close to midnight, staying between the backyards, moving like shadows beneath and in the foliage. Wills heart is hammering when they step out into the night, though he finds it slowing down ever more the closer they get, a cold fury replacing the terrified anticipation.

He turns to Hannibal shortly before they reach their goal, halting him with a hand to his chest.

„Our design will not be as neat as your own is, or was… I… no more vinyl killing suit…“

Hannibal smirks at him, and pushes close, biting at his mouth once.

„Indeed. I am looking forward to creating it… Black leather is a fine substitute for now, Will.“

Will stills for a moment and opens his soul to the darkness eclipsing Hannibals eyes. He can feel the shadowed thorns stretching, skin breaking, itching to be released. He turns and opens the back door, quietly entering the kitchen, apparently more or less unused except for stashing bottles.  
He grips the knife tighter and slowly makes his way towards the flickering blue light, instincts to stay quiet warring with the righteous fury prompting him to announce his judgment.

The man is sprawled across the couch, drunk but not unconscious, a hulk of a man, and Will forces down the nausea at the thought of this mans crimes.  
He steps out in front of the TV, Hannibal a shadow in the back of the room, watching the man scramble to his feet, shouting something unintelligible. The man draws himself up to his full height, towering over Will, seething at him. Will smiles at him, effectively stopping the man from ranting on, expression bewildered. Will draws a breath in the sudden quiet, the gloom of the room swirling with their darkness. He whispers.

„We… I have come to bring you to justice for what you did to them… the trust you destroyed, right after they started to trust again.“

Will looks sadly at the leather vest hanging over the back of a chair, it’s badge a bitter reminder of how exactly this man gained access to his victims, the man before him panting harshly, trying to concentrate.

„You were supposed to protect them, sworn to protect them even…“

Will looks back up, levels an icy glare at the man.

„You see, I bring you death… but my husband here is a true artist and cannibal and I have come to accept that, so… he brings you pain. Together we will bring you judgement.“

There is a dead quiet in the room for a moment, before the man before them roars and flings the coffee table at Will, forcing him to step out of its way. The man turns to Hannibal, taking a swing at him, Hannibal ducking, the fist splintering the door frame. Hannibal drops to his knees and slices the knife through the achilles sinews on both feet, the knife flashing in the dark, the man dropping to all fours in the entrance to the kitchen with a roar. 

Will goes passed them both slowly, keeping well out of reach, his own fingers on his knife clenching and unclenching. He goes to the big fridge slowly, and takes out a beer, taking a sip while Hannibal steps astride the mans back for an instant, pulls him up by the head and cuts the spot where the badge would have sat from the mans chest in one swift motion, stepping out of reach just in time when the man lunges at him, dropping to the floor afterwards. Hannibal looks at the piece of flesh with cloth on it, eyes glittering, looking up at Will. Will smiles sardonically, yet indulgently.

„No thank you. But please, suit yourself…“

Hannibal smirks and takes a pan, turning to the stove. The man is moaning in disbelief now, not quite able to follow what is happening, the coppery smell wafting across the room, blood dripping slowly onto the floor. Will sighs and turns back to the fridge, slowly and quietly taking all the bottles out and removing the shelves as well. He passes some butter to Hannibal without looking, wryly smirking to himself, the sizzling followed by the despite all mouthwatering smell of frying meat, Hannibal rummaging around the shelves for spices, humming to himself. 

The man pushes himself up with a grunt, and drops again when Hannibal hits him precisely into the solar plexus, stealing the mans breath, utterly in his element. Will gauges the space in the fridge and turns, kicking the man onto his back without further ado. The man pulls himself up against the freezer slowly, breath wheezing, clutching his chest. Hannibal pulls the pan off and cuts the meat into small pieces with his knife, stabbing one up and tasting it carefully, adding more salt after a moment. He kneels down to the man, offering a bite, lithely moving out of the way when the man tries to slap the pan from him. Hannibal voice is amused yet very acidic, calmly informing the man in-between his chewing.

„We will cut off you genitals and feed them to you, as you were so prone to do to small children.“

Will comes over, kneeling down next to Hannibal, continuing, voice deceptively light.

„We’ll sew your mouth shut because this is how you robbed them of their chance to raise their voices…“

Hannibal shushes the man with his knife to the mans lips when he opens his mouth to scream, effectively silencing him.

„We will also take your hands because they did not hold on to your promise. If you stay quiet we will kill you before we take them.“

The man starts to whine then, the sounds getting louder by the second, thrashing around and Hannibal sighs, shrugging and pushes his knife up through the mans throat and jaw at a certain angle, cutting his tongue and slicing his vocal cords, reducing his pleas to gurgling sounds, coughing up blood.

Will gasps, the phantom echo of the blood running out of his own mouth and a sharp pain in his face pulling at his vision, drawing it in. He feels dreamlike when he pulls the mans hands from the throat and settles his knees on them, kneeling over his crotch and reaches for the mans pants, opening them, grimacing but determined, Hannibal moving out of the way, his gaze white-hot fire on Wills back.  
Will grabs the mans genitals through the underwear and draws the shroud of darkness around himself, the skeletal forest of antlers suspending him and protecting him, the cut that severs the penis surreal, the testicles a dreamlike afterthought. The mans mouth is open, silently screaming and Will shoves it all in, suffocating the man, the snarl on his lips vicious in intensity. He can hear Hannibal growl behind him, the beast clawing at the reigns, only vaguely sated by the blood sacrifice in the form of meat. He throws a look at Hannibal, their connection vibrating and Hannibal goes willingly, crafting a needle from a chicken bone found in the trash and thread from the mans leather jacket fringes. Will keeps his hands on the mans mouth, keeping the mouth shut, the man thrashing below him in ever weakening increments, eyes wide open in terror. He watches, feels the dark pull, the beast inside him demanding he watch, the beast behind him trailing it’s claws over his body. Hannibal moves close and reaches passed him, sewing the mans mouth shut with a few stitches, pushing Wills hands off with careful movements, the last pull coinciding with the mans gaze breaking, Will rearing up, gasping desperately, falling back against Hannibal, the kiss against his temple burning his skin, Hannibals hands falling to his hips, grounding him.

Hannibal holds Will silently for a long moment, both of them with closed eyes, savoring the moment, Will groaning with the intensity of it, shaking with a myriad of emotions, all vying for dominance, tilting his head back for an open mouthed kiss, slow and painfully emotional, his chest hurting with it. He draws another deep breath to calm himself, and then squeezes Hannibals hand for a moment and they step back together, dragging the man into the freezer, propping him sideways and up against the back, legs folded under him, hands on his knees. Hannibal takes his knife, cuts off the hands, while Will returns to the living room, righting the furniture and cuts off the badge from the vest, tracing its pattern with his fingers. He returns to Hannibal pulling the mans belt out, and Will places the badge between the mans hands, cradled as it should have been, keeping them together with the belt. He scratches Jacks name on the belt for the authorities and places the little package in the freezer, next to the frozen meat. He goes out in the backyard for a moment, looking at the garbage before he picks up the tiny black bug, and puts it near the mans throat wound.

Hannibal looks at Will and closes the fridge at his nod, pushing until it snaps tight, handles pulled and locked by a piece of yarn he finds forgotten on a shelf. They look around a bit, cleaning up around them perfunctory, only interested in removing the visible traces for now, putting the soiled clothes they use for wiping up the blood in the laundry basket.  
They draw the blinds and put a little sticker on the front of the door, requesting to leave mail at the neighbors, insinuating their victim may have gone for a trip. Will turns the TV off, looking around, checking and then back at Hannibal, once more standing in the doorframe, looking at him. Will smiles, emotionally drained and Hannibals gaze deepens, the corner of his eyes betraying his smile, holding out his hand. Will reaches for it and doesn’t look back.


	5. Chapter 5

The trip back to their bikes is dreamlike, the night beautiful, fireflies adding to the atmosphere, the stars clear. Will retrieves their backpacks and saddles up wordlessly, following Hannibal to the address they got the previous morning, the caravan waiting for them there not quite so flashy or new but still modern and, as Will notices with wry amusement, very well equipped food wise. They push the bikes over to a small valet parking garage and leave them there, the caravan taking them north into the far suburbs again, deciding to stay at an abandoned farm house, not likely to be checked on there, the caravan half hidden in the barn. 

Will leaves their vehicle once more, climbing the barns roof, watching the impeding sunrise, his mind wiped clean. He feels Hannibal come up after him and settle a foot away, as not to intrude into his space properly, but not able to stay away completely. Will smiles to himself softly, the thought that they are indeed conjoined not unsettling anymore but a peaceful acceptance and need. He holds out his right hand silently, drawing Hannibal near when he takes it, exhaling.

„I… could feel it y’know. And I can feel it now.“

Hannibal looks at him, a proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

„A quiet sense of power.“

Will smiles widely, the scar on his cheek wrinkling one side more deeply.

„Yes.“

Hannibal hums and squeezes his fingers for an instant.

„It was just, I believe.“

Will closes his eyes, brows drawing together.

„Just, yes, but not art… they’re not worthy of art…“

He practically hears Hannibal tilt his head in consideration and has to suppress a grin, letting Hannibal continue uninterrupted.

„Still, you made a firefly out of Chiyos prisoner, which, as Chiyo assures me, was very beautiful. Were -his- crimes so much more worthy of art?“

Will shakes his head and turns it towards Hannibal, eyes opening to his deep red gaze.

„No. But I made that firefly for you… he did not deserve to be art but I needed to create art for you.“

Will swallows and smiles sadly.

„I’d had just felt you in the catacombs, I was still trying so hard to find my own way to you, struggling with our forgiveness. It made me feel closer to you…“

Hannibal looks at him for a moment, opening his mouth to respond but Will interrupts him.

„They… are felled by us, but not as a gift -for- you or -for- me though they serve their purpose for us. The analogies will be obvious for Jack when they contact him, which will be enough, the design brutally clear. He won’t even need a profiler for it I guess…“

Hannibal clicks his tongue, eyes roaming over Wills face, completing the thought.

„And we left our DNA all over the place, making very sure they know who to blame… And the other little gift we left. I am curious to see whether it will work…“

Will grins wryly, his features colored by the first rays of sun.

„The little gift was very pregnant. Unfortunately for the mother, the offspring feed on her if not set on other suitable food, the throat just a bit too far away, they will be utterly digesting her, an act of cannibalism if you so will. The coldness of the fridge will slow their metabolism, but not completely, the boost they get from feeding on the mother bug and the cold temperature falsifying the results, because they will think the bugs were already adult when climbing the body. If and when they eventually find the body.“

Hannibal purses his lips, his expression amused.

„Let me salute the very fitting little bug then. May her children further our plan.“

Will lies down on his back on the roof, stretching his legs, pulling Hannibal down to him when he doesn’t follow immediately. Hannibal settles on his side next to Will, putting his free right hand on Wills chest, softly stroking. Will raises his own left and traces the veins on Hannibals hand absent-mindedly, and then turns it and inspects the burn on his left wrist, the lines dark on his white skin. The burn mark is only dully throbbing by now, and itching, the lines a deep relief, impossible to erase now. Hannibal traces the lines slowly with his finger, tickling lightly. 

Will drops his hand with a content sigh and turns towards Hannibal, releasing Hannibals left hand and pushing his right arm under Hannibals shoulders and neck, drawing him near, his left leg going over Hannibals hip. Will is slightly higher up the roof and he takes advantage of the position to slowly mouth at Hannibals skin beneath his eyes, only bone, no hard muscles underneath here. Will hums contently and lowers his head, fitting their mouths together softly, the need simmering just out of reach, beasts tamed for tonight, sated by blood.  
Hannibal draws nearer, pushing up a bit, intensifying the pressure but not taking control, the kiss still tame yet so intimate. Will sighs into it and feels Hannibal do the same soundlessly. Will huffs a laugh through his nose and tilts his head, opening his mouth, Hannibal almost gliding into him, heat, wetness, possessiveness and obsession bleeding into Will and he moans with it. Will sucks sedately on Hannibals tongue, his own softly stroking in between, the kiss wet and sloppy, Hannibals hands going around his hips to pull him on top softly, never breaking the kiss, breath easy between kisses, belying the intensity.  
They move together unhurriedly, not headed anywhere, just enjoying the simmering, lips softly biting, tongues stroking until their lips are swollen and the sun is illuminating them fully. Will draws up, licking his lips, pushing Hannibal down with a hand to his lips when he tries to follow up, softly giggling.

„No… We should not stay up here in clear sight… feed me and then we can try out that new bed.“

Hannibal tightens his grip and rolls over, trapping Will underneath, the slight roll of his hips making Will shudder.

„Would you like to try out our items later?“

Will raises an eyebrow, making a show out of the consideration, but shakes his head.

„No. For those I want a hotel suite. You will have to make sure you pamper me properly before if I am to ever have a chance to survive them… they can be part of the ‚promises, promises‘… maybe at Christmas?“

Hannibal stills above him. 

„May I remind you that Christmas is still almost 3 months away?“

Will grins, unrepentantly, snapping his teeth playfully at Hannibal.

„Well, they say the thrill of anticipation exceeds everything… and of course we may need to practice a bit without the items… but I really think they and the hotel should be our… well deserved reward if we manage to properly obfuscate our position and keep our appointment.“

Hannibal harrumphs above him, the emotion so honest it makes Will laugh a full belly laugh, shaking with mirth and happiness. He draws his arms up around Hannibal and kisses him softly, cackling at him when Hannibal actually tickles him in retaliation.

___________________

 

They establish a gigantic, roughly circular shaped pattern in the next few months, tracking down pedophiles and human traffickers all over the southwest and leaving the same design over and over again, Hannibal happily partaking the flesh though Will refuses. Will takes to scratching random numbers next to Jacks name into the belt, suggesting an order to it that they don’t actually adhere to, the victims not related and their trip definitely -not- circular. 

It’s close to thanksgiving when the proverbial bomb finally drops, one of their more recent victims found by his ex-wife, the media rolling with it immediately though the police at least manages to keep the little details like the belt and their DNA from the public. Within days their other victims are tracked down and analyzed, Will reading the papers with something akin to glee. The picture of Jack in front of one of the houses, talking to some Detective makes him smile grimly, skin tingling.

The media catches on about the not yet complete pattern rather quickly, loudly discussing who might be the final two victims in the pattern, and if whoever does this might do it through Thanksgiving. Will takes to perusing the newspapers for pictures, at once deeply disturbed and weirdly proud when he sees the scenes. 

It is one day till thanksgiving when Will sits down in front of their little Macbook, scrolling through the wild news speculation, tapping his fingers, looking at Hannibal who is chopping vegetables on their little table, the sink taken up by a freaking bird of prey as far as Will is concerned. Well, he should probably be happy it is actually turkey, though who is going to eat all that, Will cannot possibly fathom. He shakes his head slightly, stealing a piece of carrot. 

„There are only one now missing for that pattern… if we wish to fog up their analysis, we need to break that pattern now.“

Hannibal looks up quickly, before returning his attention to the cutting board.

„On the contrary, my dear. We will check our next victim very carefully and kill them in the third week of December. There will only be one possible victim and date left for the police - they will expect us to hit there. In order to make sure we are uninterrupted in Florida, we need to up the ante as it were.“

Will swallows, pursing his lips.

„We need to make Jack so mad he forgets reason… “

Hannibal stops chopping, smiling cruelly.

„Indeed.“


	6. Chapter 6

They take a few days ‚off‘ through thanksgiving, Will chuckling darkly at the barely concealed disappointment of the medias coverage, the days actually sorely needed for digestion. Will isn’t sure he’ll ever eat again and says so, though he is wise enough not to sass about this, only kissing Hannibal at the mention of his sister and the hunger at the orphanage. 

They enter preparations very slowly, switching bikes and leather suits often now, various clothes ordered to a post box two states over, the bikes ‚borrowed‘ more often than not, their caravan hidden in an old stable.   
The trip to pick up the clothes is done by a rented car, Hannibal insisting on another motel after picking them up, their fake credit cards not even once complaining. Chiyo must be keeping tabs and refilling them. Will clicks his tongue at the thought, chuckling to himself, fervently wishing she doesn’t check the receipts too closely.   
It’s one of the nicer motels this time, their two rooms connected, Hannibal having rented them wearing a suit for once, stoically changed into in a restaurant bathroom, now charming himself passed an ID check, Will watching on from the car amusedly. He has to admit to himself that he has missed seeing Hannibal in suits, the last time at their wedding and that little mirror intervention and it tingles up his spine at the thought. Hannibal opens the interconnecting door quietly when they enter their rooms, his quick look making very clear that he’s aware of the train Wills thoughts are taking, walking slowly over.  
Will lets himself be pulled close, the jeans and leather outfit he wears today contrasting sharply with the black suit and he traces the lapels down carefully, smoothing the wrinkles, Hannibals hands on his waist burning through his t-shirt underneath the jacket. He sighs softly his mouth ghosting over Hannibals.

„How long do we stay here?“

Hannibal pulls softly at his lower lip with his own, the pressure unhurried.

„A few days, 5 at most until Sunday. I believe our next target has an appointment with her lawyer on monday and so she will not be missed for a while afterwards.“

Will shakes his head minutely.

„One of these days Chiyo -has- to tell me how she gets her information. Seriously, I’d have loved to have her access as a cop…“

Hannibal chuckles, softly walking Will backwards towards the bed.

„I believe the answer to this is very simple. The police do not employ hackers and large amounts of money - most of the time.“

Will groans and then shakes his head grinning. Giving up conversation in favor of kissing Hannibal more deeply. Hannibal lowers him to the bed slowly, both sinking onto it, but nonetheless Wills back pops, and he undulates, rolling his shoulder, groaning softly with the slight pain.  
Hannibal pushes his fingers into the meat of his shoulder, pushing, feeling, the action familiar by now but still hurting. He draws back some more and looks down at Will. 

„I believe we will have to take care of your back. Please strip, shower and then lay facedown on the bed. I will return shortly.“

Will gapes at him for a moment, watching Hannibal retreat swiftly, disappearing out the door. He shakes his head, somewhat irritated but nonetheless pushes himself up and goes and to follow the suggestions, the shower being switched to bath in the blink of an eye when he sees the whirlpool.   
It’s how Hannibal finds him, propped up against the side, more than half asleep, the water bubbling. Hannibal smiles softly at the utterly relaxed sight he makes and turns to leave him alone, but Will manages to get a grip on his pants and tugs.

„Join me. We never even had a proper honeymoon yet. And isn’t sharing bubble baths something newly weds do on honeymoons?“

Hannibal sits down on the edge, softly scraping his fingers through Wills hair.

„So it is. I will join you shortly. However, first, let me take care of your back.“

Will groans, but complies when Hannibal pushes him a bit forward, taking the massage oil he went out to get out of the bag, warming a bit of it in his hands.  
The pressure hurts his shoulder at first as it always does, the various scar tissues intersecting and raw, though luckily healed by now. Gradually Will becomes looser, relaxing into it, the fingers on his skin changing slowly from neutral medicinal caring to light caresses, segueing into deliberate erotic touches, all just above the water line. Will hums with the pleasure so very slowly spreading, giving himself over to it, Hannibal kneeling behind him next to the tub. It’s when Will is again thoroughly relaxed that Hannibal gets up and promises to return shortly, leaving Will alone again.

Will floats in the water, only opening his eyes when the water sloshes around him and something clinks on the floor next to them. He raises his eyebrows and chances a look, chuckling softly at what he sees.

„Strawberries and champagne? How… quaint.“

Hannibal smugly looks at him, unfazed, settling opposite him, their legs intertwining.

„And balsamic vinegar. It’s an exquisite mixture. The woman at the restaurant was very envious of you.. although I am under the impression that she expects this room to be rented by a woman.“

Will clicks his tongue, eyes mischievously glinting under his lashes.

„Now, whoever might’ve given her that impression.“

„Indeed. Of course, that also means we will not leave this room much in the next few days.“

Will laughs outright at him at that, turning to a hiss when Hannibals foot deliberately pushes against his perineum, Hannibals voice staying light and neutral.

„Have you thought about how we will infuriate Jack to take the bite, to comb a certain area over christmas?“

Will arches slightly backwards, but doesn’t withdraw from the slow pressure Hannibals toes keep on inflicting, eyes boring into his.

„Our next target is a human trafficker, a woman, who likes to keep hunting trophies. I wanted to reenact Cassie Boyle.“

The movement seizes, Hannibal all but freezing at the other side of the tub.  
When he speaks it is in a breathless whisper, dark amusement coloring it.

„What a devious idea, my vicious boy.“

Will grins, teeth flashing.

„And I’d like to leave a photo of us in the lung cavity… I had thought about our wedding photo, but then I don’t wish anyone else to see that. By the way… can you send it to Chiyo for safe keeping? Encrypted? I… want to destroy the printed image so only we have access to it. It’s…“

Words fail him at this point. Hannibal smiles at hims softly and comes closer, carefully pushing through the water until they are almost chest to chest. He pushes his face close, the breath on Wills lips tickling, hands gliding over Wills legs.

„Too intimate for them.“

Will swallows, nodding at Hannibals words, ghosting his lips over Hannibals. 

„Yes.“

Hannibal ghosts his lips over Wills eyes, pressing them to Wills temple for a moment. 

„It would be closer to art though, this design.“

Will hums, having expected this argument, grinning lightly.

„One could argue, that you made Cassie Boyle solely for me back then… in fact, I have told Jack that it was gift-wrapped. He will understand it when we reenact it. It would be more like a copy of a copy - with a copy.“

Hannibal pushes even closer, reaches over and dips a strawberry into the vinegar, putting it to Wills lips.

„Very well. I will need access to a kitchen though. I believe the lung will be pre-smoked.“

Will grins and opens his mouth, softly biting into the strawberry, making sure to catch Hannibals fingers holding it, a small groan rewarding this action.

 

_______________

 

They relocate to Hannibals room later, because all that water sloshed from the whirlpool by their movements ran down into Wills room, the carpet drenched and Will gleefully has to admit that wet socks are a pest. They spend the next few days ordering some equipment and more clothes as well as take-out, more or less staying in bed, and Will muses that he could really get into this honeymoon thing. Though he still insists that this is no hotels suite and Hannibal just growls at him. 

Tattle Crime still has a field day with describing each and every murder that can be linked, and quite observantly noting that Jack Crawford is involved and wildly speculating what this could possibly mean, correctly surmising this could be their design. Will grins fiendishly, chancing a look at the calendar. Two weeks till Christmas. He gets up and stretches, slowly walking over to Hannibal, who is sketching in his notebook. The sketch shows an almost disturbing detailed part of Wills upper body, the drawing only outlining his arms and head. He smirks and shakes his head fondly, getting into Hannibals way deliberately to kiss him, swallowing down the put on annoyed noise.

„It’s Sunday. Two weeks till Christmas, Hannibal. Let’s up the ante.“

Hannibal reaches up and traces his lips softly. 

„We will leave tonight.“


	7. Chapter 7

They re-enter their ‚circle‘ area carefully, keeping to backroads, one of them hiding in the backseat from time to time in high security areas as not to draw suspicion. Police presence has been raised considerably over the last few weeks, no doubt Jacks doing as well as the local police’s. Will breathes a sigh of relief when they manage to return their rental and reach their caravan unfollowed, finding it undisturbed, as determined by Hannibal sniffing the air. His very own personal bloodhound.

It’s 3 am in the morning when they leave again, once more taking their bikes. Hannibal insists on putting their most important possessions, like the mac, their credit cards and wedding suits with them in one of the saddle bags. The trip to Tucson is quiet, and though they pass more than one police car patrolling, the gaps between them are too great to suggest their shared identity.

They enter a shady bar thats open 24/7 near their destination, taking up their places at the bar, waiting for 9am, Will having to decline company more than once, getting more exasperated each time, Hannibal looking on positively amused after the third time. Will decides to get back and suggests to check out the gentleman to the left the next time someone comes by. Well, Hannibal can be scary, Will muses. He doesn’t dare to look but stoically nurses his beer when the poor soul actually follows his suggestion, the side of his face burning under the scorching gaze Hannibal levels at him, hearing that poor guy frantically stutter and shuffle off. Will grins. Hannibal can indeed be scary. When he finally gets up to leave at 9am he makes sure to not look at Hannibal, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

Will never looks back, mounts his bike and drives towards their destination, a big property with a side entrance for servants, going right up, parking the bike near the side entrance and calmly taking off his leather clothes, putting on a cheap tuxedo he brought in his saddle bag, worn by all the house servants here. Hannibal arrives some minutes later, doing the same, not saying one word and Will has to bite on his lip hard. He retrieves the little instant photo camera they ordered and checks it, putting it over his shoulders by its strap.

They calmly walk into the house, looking for the other servants, using their fake clothing only to get near and then rendering them unconscious with something Hannibal bought in the backstreets in Phoenix, the drug acting very fast. Hannibal looks at Will smugly when they have dragged all the servants into one of the guest rooms, laying them on the beds and sofas.

„They will sleep for several hours. Let us look for a suitable mountable device.“

Will nods, chancing a look at Hannibal from the corner of his eyes, his spine tingling with the shoe thats about to drop, but Hannibal obviously decides to let Will twitch a little longer, and goes in search for the trophy room, Will trailing behind. They open the big door across the foyer, Wills mouth dropping open slowly, his words utterly honest.

„And here I thought your sense of aesthetic is… special.“

Hannibal is silent next to him, sighing after a moment, taking in the utterly garish combination of hunting trophies, modern art decor and pop art prints.  
He looks at Will after perusing the trophies.

„You think my sense of aesthetic is special?“

Will clicks his tongue, tilting his head, shaking it.

„Well, you gotta admit, your old house actually screamed serial killer when you made yourself look. Art, weird furniture, horns with tassles, more horns, skulls, taxidermy, oh and even more horns and skulls.“

He looks at Hannibal, smiling softly.

„All very well placed to make you exuberantly weird and extravagant and mask your actual otherness. I think your only for yourself honestly comfortable rooms were the kitchen and your bedroom. Still some horns and art there, but somewhat dressed down….. more muted somehow.“

Hannibal smiles at him, the expression decidedly proud. 

„Playing tricks on the minds of the unobservant.“

Will steps near, runs his hands over Hannibals chest.

„I’m sorry all of that is gone. I expect some of the art in your bedroom belonged to your family.“

Hannibal hands come up to lightly grasp at Wills, softly tracing the digits.

„I believe I will get them back eventually. Either in a specific timeframe when they will forget about us, or if we are ever caught, Chiyo will use either ignorance or the frenzy to take the items out of the storage they were put in.“

Hannibal pauses, searching Wills eyes. 

„Would you like the horned tassels in our bedroom when we settle down eventually?“

Will huffs a laugh, grinning widely.

„Only if I may use them on you…“

Hannibal bends down and bites at Wills chin.

„I insist upon it.“

Will gasps soundlessly, drawing back swallowing tightly.

„Christ… we really shouldn’t do this now.“

Hannibal grins, but releases him, pointing at the stag head mounted on the wall.

„Would you care to assist me, dear?“

 

________________

 

Their victim comes home close to 11am, yelling for her housekeeper as soon as she enters the foyer through the front door. Will silences her with a hit to her throat, coming out of the shadows like a flash, catching her fall, carrying her without further ado into the trophy room. The woman in his arms coughs and flails, and tries to reach her gun in her jacket, Hannibal stepping up and taking it from her with a twist of her wrist. 

Will sits her down on the sofa, pointing at her and she holds her throat, but stays put there nonetheless. Will steps back and turns to Hannibal, looking at her but not saying anything. Hannibal smiles at her, thereby thoroughly spooking her, before he bends down and lightly taps her knee.

„Now, this can go down easy or bad for you. You see, my husband here, has insisted on giving you the choice of unconsciousness, his appetite in this not quite matching my own, despite everything you have done, and I am happy to oblige of course.“

Hannibal puts a little syringe next to her onto the sofa, continuing in a gleeful tone.

„You may inject yourself with this now. If you do, you will fall asleep and will not wake. If you do not, you will wish you had.“

The woman swallows, the bruise on her throat already dark. Her pretty blonde hair falls over her eyes when she looks down, fidgeting.

„There’s money, I could…“

Wills voice is very soft.

„We’re not interested in money. Or anything else you could offer us.“

She takes the little syringe into her hand and sobs, gripping it hard, the knuckles a white relief. She uncaps it, shaking and then rears up, trying to jam it into Hannibals leg, missing only by an inch, the crack of her wrist loud in the quiet room, followed by the crunch when Hannibal deliberately steps onto the syringe.

„I believe you have made your choice. Not the wisest one as I must say. But one that I, at least, prefer.“

Will closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply, cautiously checking his emotions. The beast turns to him and he smiles, the darkness offering complete and utter peace. He deliberately lets himself fall into Hannibals blackish red eyes, the rustling and screeching of expanding antlers the antithesis to the pendulums he used to need. The shadow grows and he smiles, meeting Hannibal in an open mouthed kiss they both break at the exact same moment, turning to the sobbing woman trying to get away. 

Hannibal clicks his tongue at her and drags her by the hair into the kitchen down the hall, already prepared for a simple meal, ingredients put on counters, pans out, oven pre-heated. And the table swiped clean, two knives on it. Will follows Hannibal, his skin prickling, watching the strong muscles in Hannibals back bulge just on the visible side under the tuxedos jacket. He licks his lips, immediately annoyed when the woman starts screaming at the sight of the knives, and sighs through his nose, the action earning him a darkly amused look from Hannibal. 

Hannibal drags her over to the table, utterly ignoring her, looking back at Will.

„Would you like to cut?“

Will purses his lips, considering. He steps up behind Hannibal and pushes his hands around him, letting them rest on his stomach.

„No. I want to feel.“

Hannibal eyes crinkle at the corners and he heaves the woman up onto the table, not caring for decorum now, Will following his movements, letting the anticipation seep into him. Hannibal smashes the woman head once onto the table, almost rendering her unconscious, her hands dropping from his arm to the table. The cut is quick, all through clothes and skin and tissue, the pull swift and the following crack incredible loud in the room, swallowing Wills gasp, the woman already in shock, shaking. Hannibal spreads the ribs wider, and Will moans outright at the sight, the lungs still moving, heart visible under them. Will presses closer to Hannibal, chest to back, his own desires fully realized, whispering. 

„She never had a heart for her victims… I wanna taste it.“

Hannibal tilts his head towards him.

„Would you like to me to cook it for you?“

Will stills and then bares his teeth and shakes his head, the movement jerky.  
Hannibal places the knife down very carefully and turns, searching Wills eyes, with something akin to awe, huffing a soft laugh that clenches Wills heart.

„Would you like to do it yourself, mylimasis?“

Will licks his lips and nods, not trusting his voice. Hannibal hums and the softly kisses his forehead, serene in benediction. His voice is soft.

„I will need to remove the lungs first. I will be quick. You will have to remove all connecting arteries and muscle and sinews. Just cut along the heart. It will stop beating while you do.“

Will jerks, panting now, vision tunneling in on the trembling body before him. Hannibal turns and cuts through the upper trachea with a single cut, holding onto the lung and ripping it out. Theres a gurgling noise and then no sound except the soft squishy sounds the inner chest cavity makes, blood sloshing around, the heart beating frantically to keep up. Will moans and jerks again on his feet, stumbling towards the table, trying to calm his breathing. He grips the knife tight, sensing Hannibal step away dragging the bloody lungs to the counter, starting to squish them, all the while watching Will like a hawk. Will slowly takes his knife through the interconnecting tissue, his other hand holding the heart, its last beat thundering through his veins, a dark referral of force traveling through him. He moans softly, dropping his head, the elation arousing in desperation, need bleeding in. He opens his eyes again, focusing on the muscle, taking it out slowly, the blood dripping down into the body and onto his wrist, coloring the healed lines of the stag head in crimson. He rises the heart up slowly, the coppery smell craved now, and drags his lips along it, softly licking at one chamber. He can hear Hannibal finish the chopping behind him, coming swiftly closer and turns towards him, lower face bloody, heart in hand, the monster in front and inside. He moans again softly and bites, the tough muscle hard to sever, blood spilling down his throat and chest, and he laughs darkly and freely, swallowing the bite and throwing the rest uncaringly into a corner.

Will opens his eyes to see Hannibal stare at him, the hunger so breathtakingly obvious in his gaze. Hannibal comes closer and Will watches him through lidded eyes, mouth still dripping blood. Hannibal drops to his knees in front of Will and opens his pants, deep throating him right away, the lust a blazing reality check refocusing his need, only now realized. The warm tight heat mixes with the coppery smell and taste and Will comes after only a few pushes into Hannibals mouth, the orgasm completing him, the sense of power sublime.  
He bows down over Hannibal, pulling him off, hissing and kisses Hannibal deeply, chasing the taste of himself. He hums against this mouth, feeling Hannibal do him back up and then stand, their mouths never disconnecting. They kiss languidly, slowly coming to lingering kisses, Hannibal no doubt chasing the coppery taste in Wills mouth. 

The oven pings and Will grins, breaking the kiss, softly chuckling against Hannibals mouth. 

„Make me lunch.“

Hannibal puts his forehead to Wills. 

„As you wish.“


	8. Chapter 8

Will leaves Hannibal preparing food in the kitchen and takes the body out to the trophy room, undressing her dispassionately, and literally throwing her onto the stag head they have wedged between some furniture so the antlers point up. It’s not as beautiful as Cassie Boyle was, but then it doesn’t have to be. He carefully folds the clothes, putting them next to her body, returning to Hannibal in the kitchen, irresistibly drawn by the smell. He comes up behind him again, just watching over his shoulder, smirking, his whole being suffused with brilliant calm. He takes the camera off his shoulder, reaches for a dish towel to remove the blood from the lens and holds it sideways, putting his head on Hannibals shoulder. Hannibal tilts his head back, looking at Will, who looks at the lens, the flash glaring. Will places a little kiss at Hannibals neck and steps back, shaking the little piece of paper that will be their incense in his hand, Hannibal watching on amused.

„You know Will, you do not actually have to shake it.“

„I know… more fun this way though.“

The oven behind him pings again and if on cue his stomach rumbles. Hannibal takes the pot off the stove comes over and licks at a little speck of blood on Wills cheek.

„Lunch is ready.“

________________

 

They leave a hell of a mess, not bothering to clean up at all. Will writes ‚one more to go‘ onto one of the mirrors in the foyer. The photo is placed where the heart was, Will startled by the serene look in his own eyes and the devotion in Hannibals, captured in a little snapshot of reality. 

Will showers in one of the upstairs bathrooms, equally garish in design, changing back into the leather clothes Hannibal fetches for him from outside, leaving the tuxedo on the floor. When he comes down again he finds Hannibal dressed similarly, collecting things from all over the place, their leftover food, some apparently newly made fancy sandwiches, bottles of wine obviously deemed worthy, folding knives and a few water bottles. Will steps up to Hannibal perusing the items.

„You expect us to not be able to return to our caravan?“

„While you were showering her lawyer called several times, apparently she forgot to sign a document, leaving increasingly annoyed messages, the last ending with the note that he would come over at 2pm. It is now 1:30pm, it would be too great a risk to go back to it. If we want to escape their grasp, we have to leave now.“

Will smiles softly, continuing the thought.

„Besides, we have everything we need.“

Hannibal leans over and kisses him, eyes dark.

„We have.“

__________________

 

They split up again going to the station, their saddle bags very full. Will keeps his sunglasses on all the time, because he can’t stand the visor down. He passes several patrol cars, and smirks to himself, only feeling a twitch of nerves when a whole armada of them rushes by, sirens howling. Probably found their lunch date.

He keeps painstakingly to the speed limit taking back alleys if possible and breathes a sigh of relief when the freight station comes into view finally, meeting Hannibal back there between the trains. They search for the wagon with the number Chiyo relayed to them, and push their bikes up to it with a ramp they build from some sturdy particleboards. Hannibal kicks them up into the wagon when they finally manage to get the bikes up, both panting with exertion, closing the door almost all the way, the light dimming to a shady gloom.

Will sits down in the corner with a sigh, patting the dusty boards next to him, and Hannibal settles next to him, though he crunches his nose at the dust particles settling everywhere and Will has to grin.

„How long until departure?“

„15 minutes I believe. This train will take us all the way to New Orleans within more or less 32 hours. I thought you might take a sailing boat down to Florida for once.“

Will snickers.

„Do you think that’s a good idea?“

Hannibal leans towards him, playfully bumping his shoulder.

„I believe I will survive. And I also believe it would make you happy.“

Will sighs contently and drops his head back against the wall, Hannibal immediately seizing the opportunity to nose along his throat, mouthing softly at his jugular. 

„It would. And we wouldn’t be that long on it… Though we should probably refrain from coast hopping and just go straight down.“

Far off the trains engine rumbles to life, the jerk pulling the train wagons in motion dislodging Hannibals mouth towards Wills neck. Will hums softly, feeling Hannibal nip at his skin, softly biting, hands stroking along his thighs.

„We can’t, can we? I mean, we have to stay very vigilant on this train… probably need to get off rather soon if need be. I bet Jack thinks of this.“

The growl from Hannibal is almost inaudible and Will grins. He pushes at Hannibals shoulders and places a peck on his nose, softly chuckling. 

„I’ve corrupted you, Dr. Graham-Lecter. Placing pleasure over safety…“

Hannibal sighs against his mouth and then draws back. 

„You always believed you could change me.“

He looks up directly into Wills eyes.

„And you have.“

Wills mouth is dry, the words bringing that pain in sharp focus, the smile on his stomach white hot heat, the phantom pain of the memory echoing betrayal still brutally sharp but now twisting into fierce possessiveness and exultant glee.

„I have… and you’ve freed me. Fuck the world.“

He draws back in, cutting off Hannibals muttered ‚language’ with his lips, Hannibals mouth scorching, the wet heat the only thing that matters now.

____________________

 

Will is being jarred awake, the wagon coming to a screeching halt. He sits up groggily, freezing in the cold morning air, trying to find his clothes. They should be drawing close finally, judged by the light coming in through the door, twisting to see Hannibal stand close to their bikes, already checking their bags and repacking. He chances a look over at one corner, looking at the body there, the man an unfortunate casualty at one of the stops, happening to check the wrong wagon. He sighs, and gets up, collecting his things, smiling when he thinks about the furious sex that followed after he lunged himself at the man, snapping his neck in cold fury. He steps up to Hannibal and just holds him for a moment, the trains rhythm tranquil.

Hannibal stops and turns, drawing him in, softly taming Wills curse with his fingers, Wills eyes closing at the feeling, the breathtaking intimacy. 

„I have not received any information from Chiyo yet. Either the channels are not safe, or she is not able to relay the information. In any case we should be very careful.“

Will hums, chewing softly on his lower lip.

„I wanna buy a ‚Tattle crime‘. We’ll probably get anything we need from … that.“

Hannibal nods but doesn’t respond, sensing that Will is not finished. 

„I… would like to employ Freddy. Willing or unwilling.“

Hannibal tilts his head, his eyes sparkling amusedly.

„To what purpose do you wish to use Miss Lounds?“

Will grins and then goes over to his bike, smirking.


	9. Chapter 9

When the train stops finally, they push their bikes back down and take backstreets downtown, the late evening streets still so full of life, people hustling already in christmas preparations. Will separates from Hannibal and thinks about Mardis Gras for a moment, smirking and resigning himself to take Hannibal there later. He starts, surprised at himself that he is indeed thinking in the future now and carefully probes his feelings on the matter, the bikes engine roaring beneath him.  
There’s anger at having to leave their little bubble of reality so many months ago, the time spent in southern France already dreamlike. There’s acceptance and peace in what they have now. And there’s longing for more. Will swallows, smiling wryly to himself, pushing it down. 

He pulls up to a run down marina off the main track and peruses the ships there, several for sale according to online advertising. A small sailing yacht catches his eye, smaller than his Nola back then but sufficient for he little trip across towards Florida.   
He parks his bike, not bothering to clean up his appearance, his scars covered in makeup but probably still visible on his sweaty skin. He is inspecting the hull and cabin when an old man comes to greet him, his weathered face wearing a tired expression. Will manages to barter a reasonable price, even going so far as to get some much needed equipment on top. The man takes his fake credit card and disappears while Will starts to unload his bike. He takes the saddle bags off and stores them in the boats cabin and then pushes it into the marina on the other side of the boathouse, the big splash swallowed by the roar of a plane going directly by over them. 

He is on his way back to the boat when he feels his senses tingling, and hides behind the corner of the boathouse just before a patrol car goes by. He snarls quietly, his hand going to the folding knife in his pocket, stance shifting. The officer pulls up to the boathouse and gets out, stemming his impressive weight, swearing over some formalities under his breath. Will sees him take a flyer from the backseat and go in, and he curses quietly under his breath, his stomach dropping. There is no sense killing him, it would only draw more police. And he can’t just leave just now, waiting for Hannibal and without his bike, all his belongings on the boat already. And the mariner expects him. Will smiles grimly and then checks his appearance in the dirty glass of a window in the back, deciding to go full in. He snicks the blade in his pocket open just in case. 

Will rounds the corner, his gait dropping into an unthreatening slouch, wishing fervently for some glasses just about now. Well, it can’t be helped.  
He enters the air conditioned hut, catching the last phrases of ‚wanted refugees maybe looking to buy some boats‘ and catches a flash of his old FBI id card on the flyer before the officer sighs and puts it away again. Apparently the mariner didn’t sell him out. Interesting. Will slouches in the corner, for all appearances sake waiting bored out of his skull, pretending to be distractedly inspecting a boat in a bottle. He looks up when the shadow falls across his hands and smiles, the belied emotion so false his teeth ache with it.

„Officer.“

The officer looks at him, skipping his face rather fast, the makeup apparently doing it’s job, but pausing at some bruises just visible on his throat, gaze flicking down Wills body, before they lock onto his eyes.

„Everything alright, buddy?“

Will forces himself to smile wider and tries to make his voice as genuine as possible. 

„Why yes, thanks for checkin’. Been having’ s’me rough times, y’know, but it’s way better now.“

He deliberately slurs the words a bit, letting his southern accent flow. The officer nods, more to himself and then shakes his head.

„Do I know you, Mr.?“

Well, yes, obviously. Will has to really stomp the impulse to roll his eyes, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, incredible glad that he does not quite look any more like that photo taken so long ago. He forces an embarrassed laugh, his thoughts racing.

„Miller. Well, yeah, y’might. It’s a bit embarrassing really….“

He trails off, hoping for a prompt, the officers demeanor already softening a bit at the mention of probable embarrassment. He keeps insisting though.

„It’s just that I never forget a face, Mr. Miller.“

Will almost snorts. He covers it by a hand over his mouth, faking a cough, clearing his throat.

„Well, did some commercials once? For…“

Will drops his voice to a conspirational whisper, his eyes flickering to the mariner, head tilting, his whole body asking for lenience. The officer has to hide a grin.

„Hygiene products…

Will clears his throat and crosses his arms in a play of defensiveness. He grimaces and continues.

„Though that all changed with the friggin’ car accident. Been on the road now a lot, just wanna get out onto the water for a while. Calms me.“

The officer nods again, smirking wryly, his compassion genuine. Wills teeth grind together in an effort to stay still when the man puts a hand on Wills shoulder, shaking him a bit. 

„Well, you just make sure old Frank here doesn’t cut your fuel short. There’s been weird winds these days.“

He draws back and nods at Will again, who nods back and forces another smile, forcing himself to unlock his arms, slowly stepping up to the counter when the officer leaves and gets back into his car. They both watch the car leave, silent, an unspoken understanding present. ‚Frank‘ clears his throat.

„He’s a good man you know, just doing his job.“

Will raises his eyebrows, grinning grimly. So much for no recognition. He sighs, and looks up, the man across him fidgety. Well, Will cannot blame him. Wills voice is soft.

„And of course, good behavior is rewarded.“

The man swallows, eyes going wide in panic.

„Oh, no, I did not mean to insinuate…“

Will rises his hand, silencing him.

„I know. Nonetheless, that boat is …. worth much more than what we shook hands on, don’t you agree?“

The man wrings his hands, swallowing again.

„I… If it were, I could probably close shop for a while and go on a vacation. I always wanted to see Hawaii.“

Will smiles softly, genuinely.

„And you should always go and visit the world if you can… How about you quintuple the price and start the transaction and then close shop? Right now?“

The man gapes at him and then drops his gaze, letting it flicker around the shop, coming to rest on the terminal. He takes the credit card slowly and enters the amount Will indicated with shaking fingers, Will entering the code for direct debit without hesitation. Frank stares at the little paper and pulls it off, shaking badly now. Will puts his hand over Franks, stilling him, smirking wryly. 

„Have fun on Hawaii, Frank. Leave the key.“

Frank nods and swallows, and then nods again. He takes his wallet and some keys, fumbling the shop key off and shuffles out, not looking back, almost hyperventilating. Will closes his eyes for a moment and draws a deep breath. 

„We should kill him.“

Will smiles and turns to the side, where Hannibal steps out from the shadows behind a shelf. One of these days Will has to find out how he manages to be so silent.

„Probably. But we won’t.“

Hannibal looks at him for a moment and then tilts his head.

„Then let us take what we need from here and leave. I have gotten sufficient groceries to last us approximately two weeks. And I have bought us some simple clothes. Also a copy of ‚Tattle Crime‘ as you wished. I would seem as if Jack is indeed ‚seething‘.“

„That should be more than enough…“

Will sighs and draws a hand over his face.

„I could really do with a beer right now.“

Hannibal smirks and steps behind the counter, opening a mini fridge there, pulling out two cans of cheap beer, the disgust obvious on his face when he gives them to Will. Will actually groans.

„Perfect.“


	10. Chapter 10

They reach key west after 6 days, the winds in their favor, sleeping in shifts, Will giving Hannibal the basic rundown to sailing before taking off but doing most of it himself. Hannibal keeps on deck most of the time, his skin not quite a healthy color, but Will keeps his mirth to himself, knowing that they’re only sailing because he loves it so much. 

They leave the boat at a mooring in Trumbo Point in the middle of the night, rigging it to sink, stealing a car some blocks off, taking it only near the next rental service and get a nondescript but to Wills surprise high class black car as soon as that opens.  
Hannibal drives the car up to Miami, the 4h trip one of the most peaceful Will can remember, head half out of the open window, the wind blowing through his hair, eyes closed. He smiles when Hannibal jokingly compares him to a dog, another minute stab of longing somewhere in his gut. He watches the suburbs of Miami go by, colorful and gaudy decorations now everywhere so close to the festivities, christmas only 5 days off.

„So, where will we be staying?“

Hannibal smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

„I believe you have demanded a hotel suite? I have procured us something even better.“

Will snorts at the ‚demanding‘, muttering ‚demanding, my ass‘ under his breath, Hannibal clicking his tongue at him but continuing nonetheless.

„An old colleague of mine, dating way back to Paris lives here. He will be on a seminar in Japan until the end of january. He would not object our using his apartment I believe, though I have to admit that I have not seen him in decades. I have therefore asked Chiyo to fake instructions for the housekeepers and she has texted me the access codes.“

„Breaking and entering?“

Hannibal smirks at him, teeth flashing for a moment.

„Not quite so.“

Will shakes his head, smiling wryly and returns to watching the city go by. They enter an apartment complex near the beach and Hannibal drives down a subterranean park deck entrance, typing in the code and then parks their car at lot 501. He draws a finger down Wills jaw and pulls his hand up, kissing his fingers for an instant.

„Come, beloved. Let us have our honeymoon. If even for 5 days.“

Wills heart takes up speed.

__________________

 

The apartment is very tasteful and modern, if somewhat the antithesis to Hannibals house back then. It’s on the top floor, the little card next to the entrance carrying all service numbers. The living room opens completely to the beach, the floor plan open. Will pushes open some double doors and finds a huge bed there, resisting the impulse to fall on it face first for now, opting for opening the windows and balcony doors instead, the salty air calming instantly, now seeming so much fresher than in the car.

He turns to see Hannibal unpack their things on the table, their saddle bag still the only thing they keep taking with them and blushes furiously when Hannibal places their two … items to the side nonchalantly. Hannibal looks at him and licks his lips, coming over in a few big steps, his hands gripping Wills waist and going ever deeper, his face only inches from Wills, Will moaning softly with the heat against his own body.

„I look forward to evaluate our diverse proclivities together. As you may have experienced and guessed by now, I am open to almost anything.“ 

Hannibal traces a finger along his lips, his eyes dark.

„I cannot wait to find out what you are open to, Mylimasis.“

Will swallows, clears his throat.

„After all we have done you have to ask?? We -have- tried out a few things already…“

Hannibal eyes are fathomless deep, his voice burning, his hands kneading softly, making Will short of breath. 

„I want everything you have to give. I want everything that is to experience with you. I want everything that your body can give. I want everything that your soul and mind can give. I want everything I can do to you. I want your every sound, your every expression. I want your pain, I want your pleasure, I want your ecstasy.“

Hannibal comes ever closer, the words whispered directly against Wills mouth.

„I want everything.“

Will jerks with the last word, his fingers gripping Hannibals shirt. He swallows and pushes Hannibal away, deliberately taking a step back. His hands come up to undo the first button on his shirt, watching Hannibals eyes darken ever more. His lips twitch into a smile and he opens the second button, dropping his hands afterwards, directly looking into Hannibals eyes. 

„So take what I have to give. Experience everything with me. Take what my body can give. Take what my mind and soul can give. Do what you want with me. Take my sounds, my expressions, my pain and pleasure, my ecstasy.“

Will steps back up to Hannibal, not yet touching. His voice is soft yet laced with steel. 

„And I will take you. I will change you. I will destroy and rebuild you as you did to me. Together we will be the phoenix.“

Hannibal looks at him for a second and then rips his shirt open with a swift motion, the clash of mouths too wild to be called a kiss. Hannibal holds Will head in his hands, the pressure hurtful but so welcome. Hannibal breaks the kiss after a moment, and Will is faintly proud that they’re both panting harshly. Hannibal takes a step back and puts his fingers to Wills mouth again, almost snarling.

„You should eat, beloved. You will need your strength.“

Will bites at Hannibal’s fingers, snarling back a smile. 

„So make me lunch.“

________________________

 

To Wills surprise Hannibal orders their lunch from the complexes room service, apparently confident about the quality. Hannibal orders ‚Surf and Turf‘ and some rose wine to go with it and Will has to concur with the judgment, the food excellent, their meal easy and yet heated in atmosphere.

Hannibal rises and goes to the bar, returning with some very good cognac, taking Will by his left hand and drawing him over to the couch, settling facing the window, the ocean rolling beyond. He draws Wills legs over his knees, so Will is almost in Hannibals lap and Will lets Hannibal drape as he wants, sipping contently at the cognac, enjoying the early afternoon sun, watching Hannibal through lowered eyes. There’s an intensity here that’s hard to shake, Hannibal practically vibrating with obsessive need, leashed just so. Will muses that this is the first time they are not on the run or in some motel, but something more akin to Hannibals standards. And yet by all probability safe, or at least much safer than in a hotel, probably making Hannibal feel safer. And Hannibal feeling safer will only intensify anything he endeavors. Will swallows. Hannibal softly traces along the veins in his unsocked feet, Will having taken them off as soon as he entered, the creamy carpet an innocent pleasure for once. Hannibal sips on his cognac and uncharacteristically fidgets with Wills trousers. Will suppresses a smile and drops his head back onto the couch, clicking his tongue. Hannibal gaze flicks up and Will grins a ‚come hither‘ smile, positively lewd. There is a small snarl in Hannibals expression when he sips once more and then puts his glass away, his voice deceptively soft, the undertone making Wills hairs stand up.

„You have been a very naughty boy…“

Will shivers and licks his lips, trying for nonchalance.

„You’ll have to be more specific I guess… I have been rather naughty since I eloped with you.. at least by some standards.“

Hannibal grins sharply, teeth flashing, making Wills insides clench.

„The specific naughtiness I am referring to is sending that … man after me in the bar. What a vicious boy you are.“

Ah. So that other shoe drops after all. Will swallows and then grins, taking another sip of the cognac, feeling the buzz in his veins.

„So, what happens to naughty boys?“

„You will find out. Finish your drink, beloved.“

Will runs his tongue along his teeth, sees Hannibal mimic the action. He slowly raises his glass and tilts it up, taking a big swallow and then deliberately upends it, letting the alcohol run down his face and throat, wetting his shirt. The gasp Hannibal involuntarily gives makes Will moan softly, the sound his only warning before Hannibal yanks him up and close, his mouth latching onto Wills throat, licking and sucking the alcohol from Wills skin.

Will drops the now empty glass and puts his hands on Hannibals shoulders and leans back slightly to give him better access, Hannibals hands bruising on his hips. Hannibal shifts under him and Will finds himself being carried to bed. Again. He shakes his head at Hannibal and then hisses sharply when those teeth bite at his skin. Hard. Will groans and then moans as Hannibal licks at the small wound, humming against his skin. Hannibal puts him down on the giant box spring bed carefully, bending low to keep on sucking there, no doubt creating a giant hickey, not that Will cares right now. When he is released he lets himself fall back onto the bed, deliberately trailing his hands down his body, watching Hannibal watch his movements. It’s still humbling to see the effect he has on Hannibal, the hunger in those eyes. Hannibal voice is rough.

„Stay.“

Will smiles softly, his voice softly teasing.

„Will I get my ‚promises, promises‘?“

Hannibal eyes lock with his.

„Definitely.“

Hannibal turns and leaves the room, and returns with a bottle of new lube, their items and the bucket of ice cubes their rose wine came in. His tone is conversational.

„I do wonder how often I can make you climax. I look forward to explore your endurance.“

Will gasps, his pants already way too tight. He looks at the small vibrator that Hannibal selected so long ago and the cock ring he added on a whim, having to close his eyes for a moment. Hannibal takes the vibrator and puts it in the ice bucket, his voice sounding almost bored. 

„I hope the walls of this apartment are soundproof, maybe we will need to get a proper gag at some point but for today I want to hear every sound I can draw from you.“

Fuck. Will really is too old to come in his pants. He throws a dirty look at Hannibal and pushes his jeans off, the smirk on Hannibals face way too smug in his opinion. He throws them at Hannibal, who just ducks and then comes at him and pushes him down wordlessly, the silent treatment only intensifying Wills arousal. Hannibal takes off Wills boxers, and then takes the cock ring and carefully places it over Wills genitals, the handling almost medical. The pressure takes of the edge off for a moment and he closes his eyes gratefully for a moment, but unable to suppress the sass. 

„I thought the goal was to make me come… repeatedly?“

Hannibal smirks at him, checking the temperature of the vibrator, the ice cubes gleaming in the sun. Will is just glad that the angle the beach is from their floor prevents people from watching. He’s pretty sure that Hannibal would give shit about that now. 

„It is. However, first, naughty boys will be punished.“

Oh, that. Damn, Will had almost forgotten about that. It should probably worry him more, that he looks forward to whatever punishment Hannibal decides to see fit, but then his life is beyond any petty concerns now. Still, he wonders.

„And what does that punishment entail?“

Hannibal smiles at him, a serene smile, full of love and darkness.

„Ah, I had thought about spanking or caning you. But then we would probably need to talk about a safe word after all, since I have promised you not to hurt you in this. Maybe we can discuss this later. For now, I have decided to make you beg me. I will make you beg to let you come.“ 

Will closes his eyes and releases a shuddering breath. He huffs a laugh.

„How do you know this is a punishment for me?“

Hannibal bends down and places a kiss on his stomach, close to his smile. 

„You do not like to beg, Will. Even your plea for my help in prison was tinted with your special kind of ‚sass‘. Have you ever begged for something? Genuinely? I do not call your pleading in prison begging by the way, you were very deliberate and cunning back then. Or your broken sobbing when sick. No. You do not like to beg.“

Will smirks wryly, shaking his head softly, but staying quiet. There is nothing to say, Hannibal already knowing his soul so well. He feels Hannibal ghost his lips over his smile, and pushes his hands into his hair, the silvery strands running through his fingers, Hannibals voice vibrating against his skin.

„It will be your greatest punishment and your most serene pleasure to be made to beg for release.“

Will opens his eyes and draws Hannibals head up by his hair, fingers clenching.

„It also will be your most serene pleasure I bet.“

Hannibal grins at him. 

„Most certainly.“

Hannibal forces his own head down, ignoring the pull Will has on his hair and mouthes at Wills nipples, Will letting his head fall back, eyes closing again. He grins, his the tips of antlers prickling at his neck. 

„Give it your best shot.“

He more feels than hears Hannibal chuckle against his skin and he joins in, breathlessly happy. Hannibal moves up to his mouth and softly kisses him, tongue licking warm and pliant, a deep kiss that makes Wills toes curl. They undress each other slowly, not much needed in Wills case, bodies gliding together, tumbling across the bed, the embrace unhurried. Hannibal pushes Will over to his stomach and climbs astride, his cock settling heavy on Wills ass, making him push his hips up instinctively. Hannibal chuckles and then clicks his tongue, starting to slowly massage Wills back, peppering it with kisses from time to time, until Will is soft and pliant under his hands, low key moaning in pleasure.

Will feels Hannibal move further back and hears the bottle of lube being opened and sighs soundlessly, feeling Hannibals finger circle his entrance softly, deliberately only massaging the rim. He feels Hannibal shift his weight and then his tongue is there, licking after the fingers pressure, making Will mewl under his breath, the guilty pleasure of this something he almost never can get enough of. Hannibal tongue is wet heat, joined by the heat of the lube that Will realizes just now is some kind of special brand, cold at first, but a bright warmth now. Hannibal is really pulling all registers, the bastard. It’s one of his last coherent thoughts for a while before he moans low in his throat, his cock leaking already. He is holding onto the low headboard already and they haven’t even properly started yet and Will cackles a laugh at the thought, ending in a panted groan when Hannibal chooses that moment to push his tongue in, slowly adding his fingers, never hitting that spot inside of Will, too intent on buildup.

It goes on for a while, Will almost incoherent with pleasure, but still sane enough to grin and moan and keep his mouth shut on any words. He feels Hannibal grin and bite playfully at his ass and then hears the clinks of something hitting metal and he realizes what that means just a moment too late to brace. The icy vibrator is pushed in, right against his prostrate in one deliberate push, the coldness offsetting the lubes heat, and lights explode behind Wills eyes the pleasure painful and he rears up onto his knees, screaming through his teeth. Hannibal removes the vibrator again immediately, replacing it with more lube and his tongue again, until Will breathes almost normally again and then he does it again, Will almost sobbing this time. He doesn’t look down, afraid of what he might see, but too stubborn to give in just yet. Hannibal establishes a rhythm, Will sweating and keening within minutes, leaking precome, limbs shaking, but holding on by pure force of thought. 

Will is panting like running a marathon now, and Hannibals is hissing behind him, breath also short. He leans forward over Wills back when he pushes the vibrator in the next time, whispering, the words almost lost in Wills tortured pleasure. 

„Ah, it is a pleasure to see you fight so bravely, my beloved. However, I will break you now.“

Wills eyes snap open, wide eyed and unfocused looking at the wall, panting harshly, heart almost jumping out of his chest. Hannibal twists the vibrator around, changing the angle, pressing down, even more against the bundle of nerves there and Will releases a low shout, drawn out and tortured and craved beyond measure. It’s the flick to the power switch that does it of course, Will almost stupidly recognizing the click before the first vibration hits him, and his body seizes up. His mouth opens in a silent scream, the pleasure just there, there, there and he -can’t-, the breath he needs a gulp close to panic, his body locking up in need. He feels Hannibal drape himself over him, one hand holding the vibrator at that angle, the other enclosing his cock and Will sobs, suddenly out of body, feeling and seeing Hannibal whisper ‚yes, yes, yes‘ against his sweaty back. He crashes back into his body, his arms collapsing under him and the plea leaves him without a conscious thought, only Hannibals groan actually acknowledging it’s existence. Hannibal twists his fist and the cock ring comes off, and he starts to pulse the vibrator down, and Will screams, light and darkness receiving him. 

He comes back to consciousness with the sun setting, the bedroom shrouded in darkness already, his body already back in a low grade arousal, that has Will groan, unbelieving. Hannibal bends over him, grinning and kisses him slowly, all the while moving his fingers in and out of him at a sedate pace, unhurried but deliberate. 

Will pulls his aching arms around Hannibals neck and holds on, deepening the kiss until they are both panting again. He breaks and grins at Hannibal.

„One. And I can’t wait to try this on you.“

Hannibal chuckles at him and something in his face softens, the obsessive need and lust once more transformed by an awe that still makes Will breathless. Will traces Hannibals features for a moment and then rolls on top, dislodging Hannibals fingers, changing the game and settles down onto Hannibal in one swift movement, making them both moan. It’s slow and languid, Will opening himself, body and soul, the shadows in the room darkening with every roll of his hips. He slowly bends lower when his rhythm begins to stutter, Hannibals hands on his legs bruising and begins to bite along Hannibals clavicle not bothering to hide his teeth. He licks at the blood he draws, moaning, his hips wild now, feels Hannibals hands move down between them, gripping him and pressing him down, so the friction increases ever more. Will rears up and grinds down hard, Hannibal snarling victorious beneath him as he unfurls his darkness in the safe haven of Hannibals fathomless depths, their souls connecting in shattering ecstasy.


	11. Chapter 11

Will is rather surprised his legs carry him at all the next morning. Sometime along the way they agreed on ‚4‘, Will whispering the number into Hannibals neck as the sun rose, spooned behind him, holding fast, possessing in turn, the first sun rays being swallowed by the dark metal on their entwined hands.

He looks over at Hannibal, deeply asleep, the sight itself so rare he stays there for a while, watching. The bedroom reeks of sex and blood, the bedclothes soiled, at once disgusting and arousing, and Will grins wildly and then stumbles over to the balcony door, opening it to the morning breeze, not bothering with clothes, the beach below almost empty because all the normal people have to work today, the thought making Will smirk wryly. 

He breathes deeply in, his body sated beyond measure and then pads to the kitchen, preparing some coffee. He orders breakfast for them, the food arriving within 15 minutes, left again in front of their door as to their precise instructions, Will raiding a closet for a bathrobe to pull it in. He sits down on the couch, still unshowered and munches on a croissant, feeling his neck tingle. He grins and looks up, offering the croissant but Hannibal bends down opting to bite at Wills throat instead and then steals the croissant from him, Will laughing out loud. Breakfast is quiet and playful, both of them almost looking like the very antithesis of them, well probably if one did not count the bite marks all over their skins just visible beneath their bathrobes.   
Hannibal takes a sip from Wills coffee and goes back to sucking on Wills throat, and Will half moans and half groans at him, playfully hitting him on the back. 

„We should really shower…“

Hannibal hums but doesn’t move, his words hot against Wills skin.

„I wish to fuck you so often you do not need to be prepared anymore.“

Christ. Will has to close his eyes for a moment, the deliberate cruel wording doing things to him despite last night. He pushes his fingers through Hannibals hair, holding him there. 

„Another experiment?“

He feels Hannibal grin against his neck.

„More a fact. It is our honeymoon after all.“

He draws back to look at Will, expression intense and then takes the cup and puts it away on the coffee table next to them. 

„Come back to bed, beloved.“

 

________________________

 

They forget to actually count in the end, Will realizes. It’s the morning of Christmas eve, and they haven’t been to the beach once, Will so thoroughly sated he feels floating, stretching on the bed they at least managed to change at some point. He got to use that little vibrator after all and he has to admit that a variety of sex toys might sound like fun. He swallows, grinning once more, and then pushes himself up and pads over to Hannibal in the kitchen, bringing in breakfast just now. Will chuckles at the sight, Hannibal stepping carefully over the mess they made not something he expected to see. 

„We do need to clean up….“

Hannibal just raises his eyebrows at him and Will takes the paper from him, frowning at the headline of ‚Tattle Crime‘, their pictures prominently displayed on the front page. He wonders at the man that’s on that photo, feeling removed and elated from this connection to their past, even Hannibal not quite resembling his former self, even though he keeps the beard off again these days.

Will tilts his head and probes his feelings, coming up empty. There is nothing there he misses and he tosses the paper on the floor without a second glance, the title ‚Murder husbands revealed‘ folded in half. Hannibal puts the food down at the table, setting it for once, an indication he wants to talk after all. Will lowers himself carefully, seeing Hannibal do the same and clicks his tongue. No spring chicken anymore. The corner of his eyes crinkle and yet he feels a trepidation that almost paralyzes him. His smile wavers and Hannibal hones in on him like a blood hound, his red eyes boring into Wills. Will licks his lips.

„We need to talk…“

Hannibal continues to pour the coffee, silent, a mask sliding up as Will watches, the action so unfamiliar now he feels crippled. He shakes his head and grabs for Hannibals hand, forcing a laugh.

„No, not that kind of talk. Whatever gave you that impression…. I… I really enjoyed the last 2 years… well almost 2 years now.“

Will stops and swallows and then smiles more genuinely.

„In fact that’s why we need to talk. And that’s why I want to employ Freddie. I … want to settle down somewhere. Find us another little house at some kind of ocean or lake or whatever. I … know this has been a necessity, but I really want to be -able- to enjoy the time that is given to us.“

Hannibal pauses with the cup of coffee inches from his mouth, his tone gravelly, though his eyes are softer again, the corners crinkling slightly.

„Did you just call me old, mylimasis?“

Will huffs a laugh, but cannot help the small blush, throwing a napkin at Hannibal.

„You know exactly what I mean. Let’s try to minimize the risk of getting caught by redirecting their focus once more - and good - and then disappear.“

Hannibal takes a sip and places the cup down carefully.

„I am sure that you are aware that I will be very happy to grant this wish if it is within our power to procure. That is what you wish to accomplish by employing Miss Lounds? How?“

Will clicks his tongue, tapping his finger once on the table.

„We kidnap her.“

___________________

 

It’s almost 8pm when Will finally finishes the last touches to his suit, ordered online, where else, the cuffs of platinum matching their rings, the coal gray suits complemented with equally gray but shinier shirts. He looks at the wild curls that Hannibal helped brush out floating around his head like a halo and grins, eyes sparkling in the mirror. Hannibal comes up behind him and adjusts his collar, though Will suspects it’s only for show, to be able to do something. 

„Do you think it will work?“

Will sighs through his nose, raising his eyes to Hannibals in the mirror, weirdly nervous for the answer. 

„We will make it work.“

Of course. Will has to grin and he turns, placing a kiss on Hannibals lips.


	12. Chapter 12

The reception is a quiet affair, the book signing and media outrage already passed by in the afternoon, Freddies flaming hair a beacon drawing him in. It’s weird that people do not notice him, but then he carries himself very differently now, and the extremely expensive suit and sunglasses plus makeup on his scars seem to do the rest. Will mingles a while, confident in the fact that Hannibal will be waiting in her room. He waits until she gets up to go to the bathroom, excusing herself, and then follows a few steps, making sure to lock the bathroom behind them, wondering what it is with him and meetings in bathrooms.

He has to give it to her, she’s hard to shake, though startled at first, the words stuck in her throat, searching what she can see of his face. Will pulls off the sunglasses slowly, wordlessly putting a finger to his lips and her eyes dart frantically though her body stays put at least. She raises her chin at him, her voice wavering only a bit .

„How nice of you to drop by, Mr. Graham. If I had known I would have quadrupled my copies and had you sign them. Pity.“

Will grins, enjoying the bantering now much more than then.

„Ah, Freddie, I’m afraid my handwriting isn’t too good. However, we could have asked Hannibal, of course. And it’s Graham-Lecter, now.“

He sees her swallow, eyes darting to the door, fingers twitching. She presses on, trembling.

„So he is here? How nice… You are true murder husbands now… I wonder how much of my book was actually the truth.“

Will laughs quietly.

„Well, you always were very lenient with the truth… But then, nobody to check the facts with you. Would you like some facts?“

She raises her chin further, voice calmer now, her sass creeping back, head tilting in consideration.

„Like the facts you somehow managed to relay ... information to Alana Bloom and the Vergers? There must be a reason they are back in Baltimore. Would you care to tell about that? And, of course, I would need to ask your price. If I may expect to be alive tomorrow morning.“

Will smiles at her, teeth flashing. 

„Come, Freddie, lets sneak off to your room. I’ll make it look as if we’re having some fun times…“

He puts the glasses and unlocks the door, holding out his hand. Freddie bites her lip and Will knows they have won when she takes it.

 

__________________

 

He carries her up to her room bridal style, Freddie even giggling a bit forced when they encounter other guests, though he has to strongly suggest it to her.  
Will drops her right after the door, closing it slowly behind him, watching her straighten up and then freeze again, caught between them, Hannibal looking positively deadly in the half gloom, his voice velvety.

„Merry Christmas, Miss Lounds. How nice and considerate of you to join us.“

Will leans back on the door, smirking, content to watch the play unfold now. Freddie straightens her back even more, careful with her words now, extremely polite even in tone. 

„Dr. Graham-Lecter. My congratulations to your wedding. Can I offer you something from the mini bar?“

Hannibal smirks but shakes his head, slowly walking across the room, stopping in front of her.

„It is we who want to offer something to you. However, we might need a favor in return. Would you be interested?“

Freddie fidgets for a moment and then nods, her self preservation instincts working overtime.

„Very well. We wish to kidnap you tonight to South America Miss Lounds. You will board a plane in exactly 3 hours to Rio de Janeiro, pretending to be scared the whole time on the airport and on the flight. As soon as you reach immigration in Rio, you will run through in panic, creating a diversion. You will tell them we forced you on that plane and left it with you in Rio de Janeiro. No tricks, we -will- know. Afterwards you will be free to go wherever you wish.“

Freddie tilts her head, catching on right away.

„You will not be on that plane.“

Will smirks, appreciating her candor.

„Make no mistake Freddie, someone will be.“

She lowers her head a fraction, eyes searching frantically around the room before she settles them back on Hannibal.

„What’s in it for me? I’ll miss my book signing tomorrow.“

Hannibal chuckles.

„Oh, Miss Lounds, your books and signature will be worth so much more by tomorrow evening. The reporter to escape the murder husbands. There will be so much publicity for you.“

Freddie swallows and Will can -see- the exact moment she takes their bait fully, her aura shifting.

„I would need a bit more than that…“

Will steps closer, puts a hand on her shoulder, though he looks at Hannibal.

„And there will be. We’ll update you on… stuff. I have already taken one of your cards from the reception downstairs. And as a special incentive you may take a photograph of us now.“

She looks back at him, her eyebrows drawing together.

„What is in it for you? Why come to me?“

Will looks down at her, his eyes blue steel.

„Our life. And we come to you because you already know what will happen if you betray us…“

Freddie swallows, eyes closing for a moment, before she fakes a wide smile, clapping her hands.

„Well then, since there is probably no alternative I will like, may I pack my clothes?“

Hannibal steps back and goes to retrieve a weekender.

„I took the liberty to do so already. There will be my fingerprints all over your items. Make sure they are dusted.“

Will takes her purse and takes out her phone, closing the purse with a small click.

„And now mine are on this. I hope you don’t mind that I’ll keep the phone.“

_________________

 

They leave the hotel through the back entrance, Freddie silent between them, almost vibrating with nerves and yet smug. They don’t quite meet their doppelgangers at the airports parking garage, the car receiving Freddie and driving off, no words exchanged, only silhouettes visible in the dark of the night, Will grudgingly tipping his head at Freddies guts.

Will drops his head back on the headrest, incredibly weary but also elated. 

„How long do you think until it drops?“

„Tomorrow morning, I would think. I have asked Chiyo to have evidence planted in South America. We will need to wait and see.“

Will turns to Hannibal in his seat.

„We haven’t even talked about where -we- want to go from here.“

Hannibal smirks at him and softly traces his cheek with his hand, caressing his ear. 

„I would propose we leave it to chance and circumstance. Let us find a private plane about to leave and enter it. We have what we need with us, don’t we?

Will thinks about the little suitcase in their trunk, and the man next to him. He holds out his hand, smile painfully honest, the longing evident in his eyes.

„Yes, we do. Well then, c’mon dear, lets tempt fate.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __________
> 
> Yes, this will be continued. :) I will be on vacation for a few weeks, so the next update may take a few days more, but I already got several 'impressions' running wild in my brain. Alas, the time to let them out :)
> 
> Pretty please, let me know what you think? :)


End file.
